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UNDER THE GREAT BEAR 












































































































































































































MOWA.R„()- GlueS- It) oo 


FROM IT WAS EVOKED A MONSTROUS SHAPE. — Page 194 . 


% 



NDER THE 
¥ GREAT 
* B E A R 

«* % W *••• v ; 

BY 

KIRK MUNROE 

M 

AUTHOR OF “ THE FLAMINGO FEATHER,” 
“DORYMATES,” “THE WHITE CONQUERORS,” ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
HOWARD GILES 


NEW YORK 

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO. 

19 0 0 



¥ ¥ ¥ 



51050 



Library of Congress 

Two Copies Received 


SEP 24 1900 



FIRST COPY. 

2nd Copy Delivered to 


8tW»o 




Copyright, 1900, by 
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 


“Above this far northern sea Ursa 
Major sailed so directly overhead that he 
seemed like to fall on ns. ” 

—From an early voyage to the coast of LaJyi'ador , 


















TABLE OF CONTENTS, 


C HAPTER PAGE 

I. Graduation : But What Next ? . . 3 

II. An Offer of Employment ... 12 

III. The Strange Fate of a Steamer . . 21 

IV. Alone on the Life Raft .... 34 

V. Whitb Baldwin and his “Sea Bee” . 43 

VI. The French Shore Question ... 52 

VII. Defying a Frigate 61 

VIII. A Classmate to be Avoided ... 73 

IX. Sending in a False Report ... 83 

X. Cabot Acquires a Lobster Factory . 94 

XI. Bluffing the British Navy . . . 101 

XII. England and France Come to Blows . 113 

XIII. A Prisoner of War 124 

XIV. The “Sea Bee” under Fire . . . 135 

XV. Off for Labrador 144 

XVI. Mosquitoes of the Far North . . 153 

XVII. Imprisoned by an Iceberg . . . 162 

XVIII. First Encounter with the Natives . 173 

XIX. A Melancholy Situation . . . .183 

XX. Coming of the Man-wolf .... 192 

XXI. A Welcome Missionary . . . .201 


X 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXII. Good-bye to the “Sea Bee” . . . 211 

XXIII. The Comfort of an Eskimo Lamp . . 222 

XXIV. Objects of Charity 230 

XXV. Lost in a Blizzard 241 

XXVI. An Electrician in the Wilderness . 250 
XXVII. The Man-wolf’s Story .... 261 
XXVIII. Cabot is Left Alone .... 270 
XXIX. Drifting with the Ice Pack . . . 279 

XXX. The Coming of David Gidge . . . 288 

XXXI. Assistant Manager of the Man-wolf 


Mine 


. 300 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

From it was evoked a monstrous shape Frontispiece 
On the deck of the steamer “Lavinia” . . 23 

He began to kick at it with the hope of smash- 

'f 

ING ONE OF ITS PANELS 31 

At this the enraged officer whipped out a re- 
volver 65 

“Did this come from about here ?” . .91 

Others fell on the new-comers with their fists 119 

Livid with rage, the Frenchman whipped out an 

UGLY-LOOKING KNIFE 129 

A SOLITARY FIGURE STOOD ON THE CREST OF A BALD 

HEADLAND 165 

“YlM” . . . 217 

“My name is Watson Balfour ” .... 255 

He reached a point from which he could look 

BEYOND THE BARRIER 291 

“My DEAR BOY, YOU HAVE DONE SPLENDIDLY”. . 311 



UNDER THE GREAT BEAR 









































































































UNDER THE GREAT 
BEAR. 


CHAPTER I. 

GRADUATION: BUT WHAT NEXT? 

“ Heigh-ho ! I wonder what comes next? ” 
sighed Cabot Grant as he tumbled wearily into 
bed. 

The day just ended marked the close of a 
most important era in his life; for on it he had 
been graduated from the Technical Institute, 
in which he had studied his chosen profession, 
and the coveted sheepskin that entitled him to 
sign M.E. in capital letters after his name had 
been in his possession but a few hours. 

Although Cabot came of an old Hew Eng- 
land family, and had been given every educa- 
tional advantage, he had not graduated with 
honours, having, in fact, barely scraped through 
his final examination. He had devoted alto- 
gether too much time to athletics, and to the 
congenial task of acquiring popularity, to have 


4 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


much left for study. Therefore, while it had 
been pleasant to be one of the best-liked fel- 
lows in the Institute, captain of its football 
team, and a leading figure in the festivities of 
the day just ended, now that it was all over 
our lad was regretting that he had not made 
a still better use of his opportunities. 

A number of his classmates had already been 
offered fine positions in the business world now 
looming so ominously close before him. Little 
pale-faced Dick Chandler, for instance, was to 
start at once for South Africa, in the interests of 
a wealthy corporation. Ned Burnett was to be 
assistant engineer of a famous copper mine ; a 
world-renowned electrical company had secured 
the services of Smith Redfield, and so on 
through a dozen names, no one of which was 
as well known as his, but all outranking it on 
the graduate list of that day. 

Cabot had often heard that the career of In- 
stitute students was closely watched by indi- 
viduals, firms, and corporations in need of 
young men for responsible positions, and had 
more than once resolved to graduate with a 
rank that should attract the attention of such 
persons. But there had been so much to do 
besides study that had seemed more important 
at the time, that he had allowed day after day 
to slip by without making the required effort, 


GRADUATION: BUT WHAT NEXT i 5 


and now it appeared that no one wanted 
him. 

Yes, there was one person who had made 
him a proposition that very day. Thorpe 
Walling, the wealthiest fellow in the class, 
and one of its few members who had failed to 
gain a diploma, had said: 

“ Look here, Grant, what do yon say to tak- 
ing a year’s trip around the world with me, 
while I coach for a degree next June? There 
is no such educator as travel, you know, and 
we’ll make a point of going to all sorts of 
places where we can pick up ideas. At the 
same time it’ll be no end of a lark.” 

“ I don’t know,” Cabot had replied doubt- 
fully, though his face had lighted at the mere 
idea of taking such a trip. “ I’d rather do that 
than almost anything else I know of, but ” 

“ If you are thinking of the expense,” broke 
in the other. 

“ It isn’t that,” interrupted Cabot, “ but it 
seems somehow as though I ought to be doing 
something more in the line of business. Any- 
way, I can’t give you an answer until I have 
seen my guardian, who has sent me word to 
meet him in Hew York day after to-morrow. 
I’ll let you know what he says, and if every- 
thing is all right, perhaps I’ll go with you.” 

With this the matter had rested, and during 


6 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


the manifold excitements of the day our lad 
had not given it another thought, until he 
tumbled into bed, wondering what would hap- 
pen next. Then for a long time he lay awake, 
considering Thorpe’s proposition, and wishing 
that it had been made by any other fellow in 
the class. 

Until about the time of entering the Techni- 
cal Institute, from which he was just gradu- 
ated, Cabot Grant, who was an only child, had 
been blessed with as happy a home as ever a 
boy enjoyed. Then in a breath it was taken 
from him by a railway accident, that had 
caused the instant death of his mother, and 
which the father had only survived long 
enough to provide for his son’s immediate 
future by making a will. By its terms his 
slender fortune was placed in the hands of a 
trust and investment company, who were con- 
stituted the boy’s guardians, and enjoined to 
give their ward a liberal education along such 
lines as he himself might choose. 

The corporation thus empowered had been 
faithful to its trust, and had carried out to the 
letter the instructions of their deceased client 
during the past five years. How less than a 
twelvemonth of their guardianship remained 
and it was to plan for his disposal of this time 
that Cabot had been summoned to Hew York. 


GRADUATION: BUT WHAT NEXTf 7 


He had never met the president of the cor- 
poration, and it was with no little curiosity 
concerning him that he awaited, in a sumptu- 
ously appointed anteroom, his turn for an au- 
dience with the busy man. At length he was 
shown into a plainly furnished private office 
occupied by but two persons, one somewhat 
past middle age, with a shrewd, smooth-shaven 
face, and the other much younger, who was 
evidently a private secretary. 

Of course Cabot instantly knew the former 
to be President Hepburn; and also, to his sur- 
prise, recognised him as one who had occupied 
a prominent position on the platform of the 
Institute hall when he had graduated two days 
earlier. 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Hepburn, in a crisp, busi- 
ness tone, as he noted the lad’s flash of recog- 
nition, “ I happened to be passing through and 
dropped in to see our ward graduate. I was, 
of course, disappointed that you did not take 
higher rank. At the same time I concluded 
not to make myself known to you, for fear of 
interfering with some of your plans for the 
day. It also seemed to me better that we 
should talk business here. How, with your In- 
stitute career ended, how do you propose to 
spend the remainder of your minority? I ask 
because, as you doubtless know, our instruc- 


8 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


tions are to consult your wishes in all matters, 
and conform to them as far as possible.” 

“ I appreciate your kindness in that respect,” 
replied Cabot, who was somewhat chilled by 
this business-like reception, “ and have de- 
cided, if the funds remaining in your hands 
are sufficient for the purpose, to spend the 
coming year in foreign travel; in fact, to take 
a trip around the world.” 

“ With any definite object in view,” in- 
quired Mr. Hepburn, “ or merely for pleas- 
ure ? ” 

“With the definite object of studying my 
chosen profession wherever I may find it prac- 
tised.” 

“Um! Just so. Do you propose to take 
this trip alone or in company? ” 

“I propose to go with Thorpe Walling, one 
of my classmates.” 

“ Son of the late General Walling, and a 
man who failed to graduate, is he not? ” 

“ Yes, sir. Do you know him? ” 

“ I knew his father, and wish you had 
chosen some other companion.” 

“I did not choose him. He chose me, and 
invited me to go with him.” 

“ At your own expense, I suppose? ” 

“ Certainly ! I could not have considered 
his proposition otherwise.” 


GRADUATION: BUT WHAT NEXT % 9 


“ Of course not/’ agreed Mr. Hepburn, 
“ seeing that you have funds quite sufficient 
for such a venture, if used with economy. And 
you have decided that you would rather spend 
the ensuing year in foreign travel with Thorpe 
Walling than do anything else?” 

“ I think I have, sir.” 

“ Y ery well, my boy. While I cannot say 
that I consider your decision the best that could 
be made, I have no valid objections to offer, 
and am bound to grant as far as possible your 
reasonable desires. So you have my consent 
to this scheme, if not my whole approval. 
When do you plan to start? ” 

“ Thorpe wishes to go at once.” 

“ Then, if you will call here to-morrow morn- 
ing at about this hour, I will have arranged 
for your letter of credit, and anything else 
that may suggest itself for making your trip a 
pleasant one.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” said Cabot, who, believ- 
ing the interview to be ended, turned to leave 
the room. 

“ By the way,” continued Mr. Hepburn, 
“ there is another thing I wish to mention. 
Can you recommend one of your recent class- 
mates for an important mission, to be under- 
taken at once to an out-of-the-way part of the 
world? He must be a young man of good 


10 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


morals, able to keep his business affairs to him- 
self, not afraid of hard work, and willing as 
well as physically able to endure hardships. 
His intelligence and mental fitness will, of 
course, be guaranteed by the Institute’s di- 
ploma. Our company is in immediate need of 
such a person, and will engage him at a good 
salary for a year, with certain prospects of ad- 
vancement, if he gives satisfaction. Think it 
over and let me know in the morning if you 
have hit upon one whom you believe would 
meet those requirements. In the meantime 
please do not mention the subject to any one.” 

Charged with this commission, and relieved 
that the dreaded interview was ended, Cabot 
hastened uptown to a small secret society club 
of which he was a non-resident member. There 
he wrote a note to Thorpe Walling, accepting 
his invitation, and expressing a readiness to set 
forth at once on their proposed journey. This 
done, he joined a group of fellows who were 
discussing summer plans in the reading-room. 

“ What are you going in for, Grant? ” asked 
one. “ Is your summer to be devoted to work 
or play? ” 

“Both,” laughed Cabot. “Thorpe Wall- 
ing and I are to take an educational trip around 
the world, during which we hope to have great 
fun and accomplish much work.” 


GRADUATION: BUT WHAT NEXT t 11 


“Ho, ho! ” jeered he who had put the ques- 
tion. “ That’s a good one. The idea of coup- 
ling ‘ Torpid ’ Walling’s name with anything 
that savors of work. You’ll have a good time 
fast enough. But I’ll wager anything you 
like, that in his company you will circumnavi- 
gate the globe without having done any work 
harder than spending money. Ho, no, my 
dear boy, c Torpid ’ is not the chap to encour- 
age either mental or physical effort in his asso- 
ciates. Better hunt some other companion, or 
even go by your lonely, if you really want to 
accomplish anything.” 

These words recurred to our lad many times 
during the day, and when he finally fell asleep 
that night, after fruitlessly wondering who of 
his many friends he should recommend to Presi- 
dent Hepburn, they were still ringing in his 


ears. 


CHAPTER II. 


AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. 

Thorpe Walling had never been one of 
Cabot Grant’s particular friends, nor did the lat- 
ter now regard with unmixed pleasure the idea 
of a year’s intimate association with him. He 
had accepted the latter’s invitation because noth- 
ing else seemed likely to offer, and he could not 
bear to have the other fellows, especially those 
whose class standing had secured them positions, 
imagine that he was not also in demand. Be- 
sides, the thought of a trip around the world 
was certainly very enticing; any opposition 
to the plan would have rendered him the 
more desirous of carrying it out. But in his 
interview with his guardian he had gained 
his point so easily that the concession imme- 
diately lost half its value. Even as he wrote 
his note to Thorpe he wondered if he really 
wanted to go with him, and after that conver- 
sation in the club reading-room he was almost 
certain that he did not. If Mr. Hepburn had 
only offered him employment, how gladly he 


AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. 


13 


would have accepted it and declined Thorpe’s 
invitation; but his guardian had merely asked 
him to recommend some one else. 

“ Which shows/’ thought Cabot bitterly, 
“ what he thinks of me, and of my fitness for 
any position of importance. He is right, too, 
for if ever a fellow threw away opportunities, 
I have done so during the past four years. 
And now I am deliberately going to spend an- 
other, squandering my last dollar, in company 
with a chap who will have no further use for 
me when it is gone. It really begins to look 
as though I were about the biggest fool of my 
acquaintance.” 

It was in this frame of mind that our young 
engineer made a second visit to his guardian’s 
office on the following morning. There he 
was received by Mr. Hepburn with the same 
business-like abruptness that had marked their 
interview of the day before. 

“ Good-morning, Cabot,” he said. “ I see 
you are promptly on hand, and, I suppose, 
anxious to be off. Well, I don’t blame you, 
for a pleasure trip around the world isn’t offered 
to every young fellow, and I wish I were in a 
position to take such a one myself. I have 
had prepared a letter of credit for the balance 
of your property remaining in our hands, and 
while it probably is not as large a sum as your 


14 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


friend Walling will carry, it is enough to see 
you through very comfortably, if you exercise 
a reasonable economy. I have also written 
letters of introduction to our agents in several 
foreign cities that may prove useful. Let me 
hear from you occasionally, and I trust you will 
have fully as good a time as you anticipate.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” said Cabot. “ You are 
very kind.” 

“ Not at all. I am only striving to carry 
out your father’s instructions, and do what he 
paid to have done. Now, how about the 
young man you were to recommend? Have 
you thought of one ? ” 

“ No, sir, I haven’t. You see, all the fellows 
who graduated with honours found places wait- 
ing for them, and as I knew you would only 
want one of the best, I can’t think of one 
whom I can recommend for your purpose. I 
am very sorry, but ” 

“ I fear I did not make our requirements 
quite clear,” interrupted Mr. Hepburn, “ since 
I did not mean to convey the impression that 
we would employ none but an honour man. It 
often happens that he who ranks highest as a 
student fails of success in the business world; 
and under certain conditions I would employ 
the man who graduated lowest in his class 
rather than him who stood at its head.” 


AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. 


15 


Cabot’s face expressed bis amazement at this 
statement, and noting it, Mr. Hepburn smiled 
as he continued: 

“ The mere fact that a young man has gradu- 
ated from your Institute, even though it be with 
low rank, insures his possession of technical 
knowledge sufficient for our purpose. If, at the 
same time, he is a gentleman endowed with the 
faculty of making friends, as well as an athlete 
willing to meet and able to overcome physical 
difficulties, I would employ him in preference to 
a more studious person who lacked any of these 
qualifications. If you, for instance, had not al- 
ready decided upon a plan for spending the en- 
suing year, I should not hesitate to offer you the 
position we desire to fill.” 

Cabot trembled with excitement. “ I — Mr. 
Hepburn! ” he exclaimed. “ Would you really 
have offered it to me ? ” 

“ Certainly I would. I desired you to meet 
me here for that very purpose; but when I found 
you had made other arrangements that might 
prove equally advantageous, I believed I was 
meeting your father’s wishes by helping you 
carry them out.” 

“ Is the place still open, and can I have it? ” 
asked Cabot eagerly. 

“ Hot if you are going around the world; for, 
although the duties of the position will include a 


16 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


certain amount of travel, it will not be in that 
direction.” 

“But I don’t want to go around the world, 
and would rather take the position you have to 
offer than do anything else I know of,” declared 
Cabot. 

“ Without knowing its requirements, what 
hardships it may present, nor in what direction 
it may lead you? ” inquired the other. 

“ Yes, sir. So long as you offer it I would 
accept it without question, even though it should 
be a commission to discover the North Pole.” 

“ My dear boy,” said Mr. Hepburn, in an en- 
tirely different tone from that he had hitherto 
used, “ I trust I may never forfeit nor abuse 
the confidence implied by these words. Al- 
though you did not know it, I have carefully 
watched every step of your career during the 
past five years, and while you have done some 
things, as well as developed some traits, that are 
to be regretted, I am satisfied that you are at least 
worthy of a trial in the position we desire to fill. 
So, if you are willing to relinquish your proposed 
trip around the world, and enter the employ of 
this company instead, you may consider your- 
self engaged for the term of one year from this 
date. During that time all your legitimate ex- 
penses will be met, but no salary will be paid 
you until the expiration of the year, when its 


AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. 


17 


amount will be determined by the value of the 
services you have rendered. Is that satisfac- 
tory? ” 

“ It is, sir,” replied Cabot, “ and with your 
permission I will at once telegraph Thorpe Wall- 
ing that I cannot go with him.” 

“ Write your despatch here and I will have it 
sent out. At the same time, do not mention 
that you have entered the employ of this com- 
pany, as there are reasons why, for the present 
at least, that should remain a secret.” 

When Cabot’s telegram was ready, Mr. Hep- 
burn, who had been glancing through a number 
of letters that awaited his signature, handed it 
to his secretary, to whom he also gave some in- 
structions that Cabot did not catch. As the for- 
mer left the room, the president turned to our 
young engineer and said : 

“ As perhaps you are aware, Cabot, there is 
at present an unprecedented demand all over 
the world for both iron and copper, and our com- 
pany is largely interested in the production of 
these metals. As existing sources of supply are 
inadequate it is of importance that new ones 
should be discovered, and if they can be found 
on the Atlantic seaboard, so much the better. In 
looking about for new fields that may be profit- 
ably worked, our attention has been directed to 
the island of Newfoundland and the coast of Lab- 


2 


18 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


rador. While the former has been partially ex- 
plored, we desire more definite information as 
to its available ore beds. There is a small island 
in Conception Bay, not far from St. Johns, 
known as Bell Island, said to be a mass of iron 
ore, that is already being worked by a local com- 
pany. From it I should like to have a report, 
as soon as you reach St. Johns, concerning the 
nature of the ore, the extent of the deposit, the 
cost of mining it, the present output, the facili- 
ties for shipment, and so forth. At the same 
time I want you to obtain this information with- 
out divulging the nature of your business, or al- 
lowing your name to become in any way con- 
nected with this company. 

“ Having finished with Bell Island, you will 
visit such other portions of Newfoundland as are 
readily accessible from the coast, and seem to 
promise good results, always keeping to yourself 
the true nature of your business. Finally, you 
will proceed to Labrador, where you will make 
such explorations as are possible. You will re- 
port any discoveries in person, when you return 
to New York, as I do not care to have them en- 
trusted to the mails. Above all, do not fail to 
bring back specimens of whatever you may find 
in the way of minerals. Are these instructions 
sufficiently clear? ” 

“ They seem so, sir.” 


AN OFFER OF EMPLOYMENT. 


19 


“Very well, then. I wish you to start this 
very day, as I find that a steamer, on which your 
passage is already engaged, sails from a Brook- 
lyn pier for St. Johns this afternoon. This let- 
ter of credit, which only awaits your signature 
before a notary, will, if deposited with the bank 
of Nova Scotia in St. Johns, more than defray 
your year’s expenses, and whatever you can save 
from it will be added to your salary. Therefore, 
it will pay you to practise economy, though you 
must not hesitate to incur legitimate expenses 
or to spend money when by so doing you can fur- 
ther the objects of your journey. You have 
enough money for your immediate needs, have 
you not? ” 

“ Yes, sir. I have about fifty dollars.” 

“ That will be ample, since your ticket to St. 
Johns is already paid for. Here it is.” 

Thus saying, Mr. Hepburn handed over an 
envelope containing the steamship ticket that his 
secretary had been sent out to obtain. 

“ I would take as little baggage as possible,” 
he continued, “ for you can purchase everything 
necessary in St. Johns, and will discover what 
you need after you get there. How, good-bye, 
my boy. God bless you and bring you back in 
safety. Remember that the coming year will 
probably prove the most important of your life, 
and that your future now depends entirely upon 


20 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


yourself. Mr. Black here will go with you to 
the banker’s, where you can sign your letter of 
credit.” 

So our young engineer was launched on the 
sea of business life. Two hours later he had 
packed a dress-suit case and sent his trunk down 
to the company’s building for storage. On his 
way to the steamer he stopped at his club for a 
bite of lunch, and as he was leaving the building 
he encountered the friend with whom he had 
discussed his plans the day before. 

“ Hello ! ” exclaimed that individual, “ where 
are you going in such a hurry. Not starting off 
on your year of travel, are you? ” 

“ Yes,” laughed Cabot. “ I am to sail within 
an hour. Good-bye! ” 

With this he ran down the steps and jumped 
into a waiting cab. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER. 

So exciting had been the day, and so fully had 
its every minute been occupied, that not until 
Cabot stood on the deck of the steamer “ La- 
vinia,” curiously watching the bustling prepara- 
tions for her departure, did he have time to 
realise the wonderful change in his prospects 
that had taken place within a few hours. That 
morning his life had seemed wholly aimless, and 
he had been filled with envy of those among his 
recent classmates whose services were in de- 
mand. h T ow he would not change places with 
any one of them; for was not he, too, entrusted 
with an important mission that held promise of 
a brilliant future in case he should carry it to a 
successful conclusion? 

“ And .1 will,” he mentally resolved. “Ho 
matter what happens, if I live I will succeed.” 

In spite of this brave resolve our lad could not 
help feeling rather forlorn as he watched those 
about him, all of whom seemed to have friends 
to see them off; while he alone stood friendless 
and unnoticed. 


22 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


Especially was his attention attracted to a 
nearby group of girls gathered about one who 
was evidently a bride. They were full of gay 
chatter, and he overheard one of them say : 

“ If you come within sight of an iceberg, 
Nelly, make him go close to it so you can get 
a good photograph. I should like awfully to 
have one.” 

“ So should I,” cried another. “ But, oh ! 
wouldn’t it be lovely if we could only have a 
picture of this group, standing just as we are 
aboard the ship. It would make a splendid be- 
ginning for your camera.” 

The bride, who, as Cabot saw, carried a small 
brand-new camera similar to one he had recently 
procured for his own use, promptly expressed her 
willingness to employ it as suggested, but was 
greeted by a storm of protests from her com- 
panions. 

“ No, indeed! You must be in it of course! ” 
they cried. 

Then it further transpired that all wished to 
be “ in it,” and no one wanted to act the part of 
photographer. At this juncture Cabot stepped 
forward, and lifting his cap, said: 

“ I am somewhat of a photographer, and with 
your permission it would afford me great pleasure 
to take a picture of so charming a group.” 

For a moment the girls looked at the pre- 



ON THE DECK OF THE STEAMER “LAVINIA/ 


\ 






THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER. 25 


sumptuous young stranger in silence. Then the 
bride, flushing prettily, stepped forward and 
handed him her camera, saying as she did so : 

“ Thank you, sir, ever so much for your kind 
offer, which we are glad to accept.” 

So Cabot arranged the group amid much laugh- 
ter, and by the time two plates had been exposed, 
had made rapid progress towards getting ac- 
quainted with its several members. 

The episode was barely ended before all who 
were to remain behind were ordered ashore, and, 
a few minutes later, as the ship began to move 
slowly from her dock, our traveller found him- 
self waving his handkerchief and shouting good- 
byes as vigorously as though all on the wharf 
were assembled for the express purpose of bid- 
ding him farewell. 

By the time the “ Lavinia ” was in the stream 
and headed up the East River, with her long 
voyage fairly begun, Cabot had learned that his 
new acquaintance was a bride of but a few hours, 
having been married that morning to the captain 
of that very steamer. She had hardly made this 
confession when her husband, temporarily re- 
lieved of his responsibilities by a pilot, came in 
search of her and was duly presented to our hero. 
His name was Phinney, and he so took to Cabot 
that from that moment the latter no longer found 
himself lonely or at a loss for occupation. 


26 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


As he had never before been at sea, the voyage 
proved full of interest, and his intelligent ques- 
tions received equally intelligent answers from 
Captain Phinney, who was a well-informed 
young man but a few years older than Cabot, 
and an enthusiast in his calling. 

Up Long Island Sound went the “ Lavinia,” 
and it was late that night before our lad turned 
in, so interested was he in watching the many 
lights that were pointed out by his new acquaint- 
ance. The next morning found the ship thread- 
ing her way amid the shoals of Nantucket Sound, 
after which came the open sea; and for the first 
time in his life Cabot lost sight of land. Hali- 
fax was reached on the following day, and 
here the steamer remained twenty-four hours 
discharging freight. 

The capital of Nova Scotia marks the half-way 
point between New York and St. Johns, New- 
foundland, which name Cabot was already learn- 
ing to pronounce as do its inhabitants — New- 
hmd-land — and after leaving it the ship was 
again headed for the open across the wide mouth 
of the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Thus far the 
weather had been fine, the sea smooth, and noth- 
ing had occurred to break the pleasant monotony 
of the voyage. Its chief interests lay in sighting 
distant sails, the tell-tale smoke pennons of far- 
away steamers, the plume-like spoutings of slug- 


THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER. 27 


gishly moving whales, the darting of porpoises 
about the ship’s fore-foot, the wide circling over- 
head of gulls, or the dainty skimming just above 
the wave crests of Mother Carey’s fluffy chickens. 

“ Who was Mother Carey,” asked Cabot, 
“ and why are they her chickens? ” 

“ I have been told that she was the Mater Cara 
of devout Portuguese sailors,” replied Captain 
Phinney, “ and that these tiny sea-fowl are sup- 
posed to be under her especial protection, since 
the fiercest of gales have no power to harm 
them.” 

“ How queerly names become changed and 
twisted out of their original shape,” remarked 
Cabot meditatively. “ The idea of Mater Cara 
becoming Mother Carey! ” 

“ That is an easy change compared with some 
others I have run across,” laughed the captain. 
“ For instance, I once put up at an English sea- 
port tavern called the ‘ Goat and Compasses/ and 
found out that its original name, given in Crom- 
well’s time, had been ‘ God Encompasseth Us.’ 
Almost as curious is the present name of that 
portion of the Newfoundland coast nearest us at 
this minute. It is called ‘Eerryland,’ which is 
a corruption of ‘ Verulam,’ the name applied by 
its original owner, Lord Baltimore, in memory 
of his home estate in England. In fact, this re- 
gion abounds in queerly twisted names, most of 


28 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


which were originally French. Bai d’espoir, 
for instance, has become Bay Despair. Blanc 
Sablon and Isle du Bois up on the Labrador coast 
have been Anglicised as Haney Belong and Boys’ 
Island. Cape Bace, which is almost within 
sight, was the Capo Bazzo of its Portuguese dis- 
coverer. Cape Spear was Cappo Sperenza, and 
Pointe P Amour is now hammer’s Point.” 

While taking part in conversations of this kind 
both Cabot and Mrs. Phinney, who were the only 
passengers now left on the ship, kept a sharp 
lookout for icebergs, which, as they had learned, 
were apt to be met in those waters at that season. 
Finally, during the afternoon of the last day they 
expected to spend on shipboard, a distant white 
speck dead ahead, which was at first taken for a 
sail, proved to be an iceberg, and from that mo- 
ment it was watched with the liveliest curiosity. 
Before their rapid approach it developed lofty 
pinnacles, and proved of the most dazzling white- 
ness, save at the water line, where it was banded 
with vivid blue. It was exquisitely chiselled and 
carved into dainty forms by the gleaming rivu- 
lets that ran down its steep sides and fell into the 
sea as miniature cascades. So wonderfully 
beautiful were the icy details as they were suc- 
cessively unfolded, that the bride begged her hus- 
band to take his ship just as close as possible, in 
order that she might obtain a perfect photograph. 


THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER. 29 


Anxious to gratify her every wish, Captain 
Phinney readily consented, and the ship’s course 
was slightly altered, so as to pass within one 
hundred feet of the glistening monster, which 
was now sharply outlined against a dark bank of 
fog rolling heavily in from the eastward. 

Both cameras had been kept busy from the 
time the berg came within range of their finders, 
but just as the best point of view was reached, 
and when they were so near that the chill of 
the ice was distinctly felt, Cabot discovered that 
he had exhausted his roll of films. Uttering an 
exclamation of disgust, he ran aft and down to his 
stateroom, that opened from the lower saloon, to 
secure another cartridge. As he entered the 
room, he closed its door to get at his dress-suit 
case that lay behind it. 

Recklessly tossing the contents of the case 
right and left, he had just laid hands on the de- 
sired object and was rising to his feet when, with- 
out warning, he was flung violently to the floor 
by a shock like that of an earthquake. It was 
accompanied by a dull roar and an awful sound 
of crashing and rending. At the same time the 
ship seemed to be lifted bodily. Then she fell 
back, apparently striking on her side, and for 
several minutes rolled with sickening lurches, as 
though in the trough of a heavy sea. 

In the meantime Cabot was struggling furi- 


30 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


ously to open his stateroom door; but it had so 
jammed in its casing that his utmost efforts failed 
to move it. The steel deck beams overhead 
were twisted like willow wands, the iron side of 
the ship was crumpled as though it were a sheet 
of paper, and with every downward lurch a tor- 
rent of icy water poured in about the air port, 
which, though still closed, had been wenched 
out of position. With a horrid dread the 
prisoner realised that unless quickly released he 
must drown where he was, and, unable to open 
the door, he began to kick at it with the hope of 
smashing one of its panels. 

With his first effort in this direction there 
came another muffled roar like that of an ex- 
plosion, and he felt the ship quiver as though it 
were being rent in twain. At the same moment 
his door flew open of its own accord, and he was 
nearly suffocated by an inrush of steam. Spring- 
ing forward, and blindly groping his way through 
this, the bewildered lad finally reached the stairs 
he had so recently descended. In another min- 
ute he had gained the deck, where he stood gasp- 
ing for breath and vainly trying to discover what 
terrible thing had happened. 

Hot a human being was to be seen, and the 
forward part of the ship was concealed beneath 
a dense cloud of steam and smoke that hung over 
it like a pall. Cabot fancied he could distin- 



HE BEGAN TO KICK AT IT WITH THE HOPE OF SMASHING ONE OF 

ITS PANELS. 





























- 






















THE STRANGE FATE OF A STEAMER. 33 


guish shouting in that direction, and attempted 
to gain the point from which it seemed to come ; 
but found the way barred by a yawning opening 
in the deck, from which poured smoke and flame 
as though it were the crater of a volcano. Then 
he ran back, and at length found himself on top 
of the after house, cutting with his pocket knife 
at the lashings of a life raft; for he realised that 
the ship was sinking so rapidly that she might 
plunge to the bottom at any moment. 

Five minutes later he lay prone on the buoy- 
ant raft, clutching the sides of its wooden plat- 
form, while it spun like a storm-driven leaf in the 
vortex marking the spot where the ill-fated 
“ Lavinia ” had sunk. 

3 


CHAPTER IV. 


ALONE ON THE LIFE RAFT. 

Anything less buoyant than a modem life 
raft, consisting of two steel cylinders stoutly 
braced and connected by a wooden platform, 
would have been drawn under by the deadly 
clutch of that swirling vortex. No open boat 
could have lived in it for a minute ; and even the 
raft, spinning round and round with dizzy veloc- 
ity, was sucked downward until it was actually 
below the level of the surrounding water. But, 
sturdily resisting the down-dragging force, its 
wonderful buoyancy finally triumphed, and as 
its rotary motion became less rapid, Cabot sat up 
and gazed about him with the air of one who has 
been stunned. 

He was dazed by the awfulness of the catas- 
trophe that had so suddenly overwhelmed the 
“ Lavinia,” and could form no idea of its nature. 
Had there been a collision? If so, it must have 
been with the iceberg, for nothing else had been 
in sight when he went below. Yet it was incred- 
ible that such a thing could have happened in 


ALONE ON THE LIFE RAFT. 


35 


broad daylight. The afternoon had been clear 
and bright; of that he was certain, though his 
surroundings were now shrouded by an impene- 
trable veil of fog. Through this he could see 
nothing, and from it came no sound save the 
moan of winds sweeping across a limitless void of 
waters. 

What had become of his recent companions? 
Had they gone down with the ship, and was he 
sole survivor of the tragedy? At this thought 
the lad sprang to his feet, and shouted, calling his 
friends by name, and begging them not to leave 
him; but the only answer came in shape of mock- 
ing echoes hurled sharply back from close at 
hand. Looking in that direction, he dimly dis- 
cerned a vast outline of darker substance than 
the enveloping mist. From it came also a sound 
of falling waters, and against it the sea was beat- 
ing angrily. At the same time he was conscious 
of a deadly chill in the air, and came to a sudden 
comprehension that the iceberg, to which he 
attributed all his present distress, was still close 
at hand. 

Its mere presence brought a new terror; for he 
knew that unless the attraction of its great bulk 
could be overcome, his little raft must speedily be 
drawn to it and dashed helplessly against its icy 
cliffs. This thought filled him with a momen- 
tary despair, for there seemed no possibility of 


36 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


avoiding the impending fate. Then his eyes fell 
on a pair of oars lashed, together with their metal 
rowlocks, to the sides of his raft. In another 
minute he had shipped these and was pulling 
with all his might away from that ill-omened 
neighbourhood. 

The progress of his clumsy craft was painfully 
slow; but it did move, and at the end the dreaded 
ice monster was beyond both sight and hearing. 
The exercise of rowing had warmed Cabot as 
well as temporarily diverted his mind from a con- 
templation of the terrible scenes through which 
he had so recently passed. How, however, as he 
rested on his oars, a full sense of his wretched 
plight came back to him, and he grew sick at 
heart as he realised how forlorn was his situation. 
He wondered if he could survive the night that 
was rapidly closing in on him, and, if he did, 
whether the morrow would find him any better 
off. He had no idea of the direction in which 
wind and current were drifting him, whether 
further out to sea or towards the land. He was 
again shivering with cold, he was hungry and 
thirsty, and so filled with terror at the black 
waters leaping towards him from all sides that 
he finally flung himself face downward on the 
wet platform to escape from seeing them. 

When he next lifted his head he found him- 
self in utter darkness, through which he fancied 


ALONE ON THE LIFE RAFT. 


37 


he could still hear the sound of waters dashing 
against frigid cliffs, and with an access of terror 
he once more sprang to his oars. Now he rowed 
with the wind, keeping it as directly astern as 
possible; nor did he pause in his efforts until 
compelled by exhaustion. Then he again lay 
down, and this time dropped into a fitful doze. 

Waking a little later with chattering teeth, 
he resumed his oars for the sake of warming ex- 
ercise, and again rowed as long as he was able. 
So, with alternating periods of weary work and 
unrefreshing rest, the slow dragging hours of 
that interminable night were spent. Finally, 
after he had given up all hope of ever again see- 
ing a gleam of sunshine, a faint gray began to 
permeate the fog that still held him in its wet 
embrace, and Cabot knew that he had lived to 
see the beginnings of another day. 

To make sure that the almost imperceptible 
light really marked the dawn, he shut his eyes 
and resolutely kept them closed until he had 
counted five hundred. Then he opened them, 
and almost screamed with the joy of being able to 
trace the outlines of his raft. Again and again 
he did this until at length the black night shad- 
ows had been fairly vanquished and only those 
of the fog remained. 

With the assurance that day had fairly come, 
and that the dreaded iceberg was at least not 


38 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


close at hand, Cabot again sought forgetfulness 
of his misery in sleep. When he awoke some 
hours later, aching in every bone, and painfully 
hungry, he was also filled with a delicious sense 
of warmth; for the sun, already near its merid- 
ian, was shining as brightly as though no such 
things as fog or darkness had ever existed. 

On standing up and looking about him, the 
young castaway was relieved to note that the ice- 
berg from which he had suffered so much was no 
longer in sight. At the same time he was 
grievously disappointed that he could discover 
no sail nor other token that any human being 
save himself was abroad on all that lonely sea. 

He experienced a momentary exhilaration 
when, on turning to the west, he discovered a 
dark far-reaching line that he believed to be 
land; but his spirits fell as he measured the dis- 
tance separating him from it, and realised how 
slight a chance he had of ever gaining the coast. 
To be sure, the light breeze then blowing was in 
that direction, but it might change at any mo- 
ment; and even with it to aid his rowing he 
doubted if his clumsy craft could make more 
than a mile an hour. Thus darkness would 
again overtake him ere he had covered more 
than half the required distance, though he should 
row steadily during the remainder of the day. 
He knew that his growing weakness would de- 


ALONE ON THE LIFE RAFT. 


39 


mand intervals of rest with ever-increasing fre- 
quency until utter exhaustion should put an end 
to his efforts; and then what would become of 
him? Still there was nothing else to be done; 
and, with a dogged determination to die fighting, 
if die he must, the poor lad sat down and resumed 
his hopeless task. 

A life raft is not intended to be used as a row- 
boat, and is unprovided with either seats or foot 
braces. Being thus compelled to sit on the plat- 
form, Cabot could get so little purchase that half 
his effort was wasted, and the progress made was 
barely noticeable. During his frequent pauses 
for rest he stood up to gaze longingly at the goal 
that still appeared as far away as ever, and grew 
more unattainable as the day wore on. At 
length the sun was well down the western sky, 
across which it appeared to race as never before. 
As Cabot watched it, and vaguely wished for the 
power once given to Joshua, the bleakness of 
despair suddenly enfolded him, and his eyes be- 
came blurred with tears. He covered them with 
his hands to shut out the mocking sunlight, and 
sat down because he was too weak to stand any 
longer. He had fought his fight very nearly to 
a finish, and his strength was almost gone. He 
had perhaps brought his craft five miles nearer 
to the land than it was when he set out; but after 
all what had been the gain? Apparently there 


40 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


was none, and he would not further torture his 
aching body with useless effort. 

In the meantime a small schooner, bringing 
with her a fair wind, was running rapidly down 
the coast, not many miles from where our poor 
lad so despairingly awaited the coming of night. 
That he had not seen her while standing up, 
was owing to the fact that her sails, instead of 
being white, were tanned a dull red, that 
blended perfectly with the colour of the distant 
shore line. A bright-faced, resolute chap, some- 
what younger than Cabot, but of equally sturdy 
build, held the tiller, and regarded -with evident 
approval the behaviour of his speeding craft. 

“ W e’ll make it, Dave,” he cried, cheerily. 
“ The old ‘ Sea Bee’s ’ got the wings of ’em this 
time.” 

“ Mebbe so,” growled the individual addressed, 
an elderly man who stood in the companionway, 
with his head just above the hatch, peering for- 
ward under the swelling sails. “ Mebbe so,” he 
repeated, “ and mebbe not. Steam’s hard to 
beat on land or water, an’ we be a far cry from 
Pretty Harbour yet. So fur that ef they’re 
started they’ll overhaul us before day, and beat 
us in by a good twelve hour. It’s what I’m look- 
ing fur.” 

“ Oh, pshaw ! ” replied the young skipper. 
“ What a gammy old croaker you are. They 


ALONE ON THE LIFE RAFT. 


41 


won’t start to-day, anyhow. But here, take her 
a minute, while I go aloft for one more look be- 
fore sundown to make sure.” 

As the man complied with this request, and 
waddling aft took the tiller, his more active com- 
panion sprang into the main rigging and ran 
rapidly to the masthead, from which point of 
vantage he gazed back for a full minute over the 
course they had come. 

“Not a sign,” he shouted down at length. 
“ But hello, ” he added to himself, “ what’s 
that? ” With a glance seaward his keen eye 
had detected a distant floating object that was 
momentarily uplifted on the back of a long swell, 
and flashed white in the rays of the setting sun. 

“ Luff her, David ! Hard down with your 
helium, and trim in all,” he shouted to the steers- 
man. “ There, steady, so.” 

“ Wot’s hup? ” inquired the man a fewminutes 
later, as the other rejoined him on deck. 

“ Don’t know for sure ; but there’s something 
floating off there that looks like a bit of wreck- 
age.” 

“An’ you, with all your hurry, going to stop 
fur a closer look, and lose time that’ll mebbe 
prove the most wallyable of your life,” growled 
the man disgustedly. “Wal, I’ll be jiggered!” 

“ So would I, if I didn’t,” replied the lad. “ It 
was one of dad’s rules never to pass any kind of 


42 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


a wreck without at least one good look at it, and 
so it’s one of mine as well. There’s what I’m 
after, now. See, just off the starboard bow. 
It’s a raft, and David, there’s a man on it, sure as 
you live. Look, he’s standing up and waving at 
us. How, he’s down again! Poor fellow! In 
with the jib, David! Spry now, and stand by 
with a line. I’m going to round up, right along- 
side.” 


CHAPTER V. 


WHITE BALDWIN AND HIS “ SEA BEE.” 

The hour that preceded the coming of that 
heaven-sent schooner was the blackest of Cabot 
Grant’s life, and as he sat with bowed head on 
the wet platform of his tossing raft he was utterly 
hopeless. He believed that he should never 
again hear a human voice nor tread the blessed 
land — -yes, everything was ended for him, or 
very nearly so, and whatever record he had made 
in life must now stand without addition or correc- 
tion. His thoughts went back as far as he could 
remember anything, and every act of his life was 
clearly recalled. How mean some of them now 
appeared; how thoughtless, indifferent, or self- 
ish he had been in others. Latterly how he had 
been filled with a sense of his own importance, 
how he had worked and schemed for a little 
popularity, and now who would regret him, or 
give his memory more than a passing thought? 

Thorpe Walling would say: “ Served him 
right for throwing me over, as he did,” and others 
would agree with him. Even Mr. Hepburn, 


44 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


who had doubtless given him a chance merely 
because he was his guardian, would easily find 
a better man to put in his place. Some cousins 
whom he had never seen nor cared to know 
would rejoice on coming into possession of his 
little property; and so, on the whole, his disap- 
pearance would cause more of satisfaction than 
regret. Most bitter of all was the thought that 
he would never have the opportunity of chang- 
ing, or at least of trying to change, this state of 
affairs, since he had doubtless looked at the sun 
for the last time, and the blackness of an endless 
night was about to enfold him. 

Had he really seen his last ray of sunlight and 
hope? Ho; it could not be. There must be a 
gleam left. The sun could not have set yet. He 
lifted his head. There was no sun to be seen. With 
a cry of terror he sprang to his feet, and, from the 
slight elevation thus gained, once more beheld 
the mighty orb of day, and life, and promise, 
crowning with a splendour infinitely beyond any- 
thing of this earth, the distant shore-line that he 
had striven so stoutly to gain. 

Dazzled by its radiance, Cabot saw nothing 
else during the minute that it lingered above the 
horizon. Then, as it disappeared, he uttered an- 
other cry, but this time it was one of incredulous 
and joyful amazement, for close at hand, coming 
directly towards him from out the western glory, 


BALDWIN AND HIS 11 SEA BEE” 45 


was a ship bearing a new lease of life and 
freighted with new opportunities. 

The poor lad tried to wave his cap at the new- 
comers; but after a feeble attempt sank to his 
knees, overcome by weakness and gratitude. It 
was in that position they found him as the little 
schooner was rounded sharply into the wind, and, 
with fluttering sails, lay close alongside the drift- 
ing raft. 

David flung a line that Cabot found strength 
to catch and hold to, while the young skipper of 
the “ Sea Bee ” sprang over her low rail and 
alighted beside the castaway just as the latter 
staggered to his feet with outstretched hand. 
The stranger grasped it tightly in both of his, and 
for a moment the two gazed into each other’s eyes 
without a word. Cabot tried to speak, but some- 
thing choked him so that he could not; and, not- 
ing this, the other said gently : 

“ It is all over now, and you are as safe as 
though you stood on dry land; so don’t try to say 
anything till we’ve made you comfortable, for I 
know you must have had an almighty hard time.” 

“ Yes,” whispered Cabot. “ I’ve been hun- 
gry, and thirsty, and wet, and cold, and scared; 
but now I’m only grateful — more grateful than 
I can ever tell.” 

A little later the life raft, its mission accom- 
plished, was left to toss and drift at will, while 


46 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


the “ Sea Bee/’ with everything set and drawing 
finely, was rapidly regaining her course, guided 
by the far-reaching flash of Cape Race light. In 
her dingy little cabin, which seemed to our 
rescued lad the most delightfully snug, warm, 
and altogether comfortable place he had ever 
entered, Cabot lay in the skipper’s own bunk, 
regarding with intense interest the movements 
of that busy youth. 

The latter had lighted a swinging lamp, started 
a fire in a small and very rusty galley stove, set a 
tea kettle on to boil, and a pan of cold chowder to 
re-warm. Having thus got supper well under 
way, he returned to the cabin, where he pro- 
ceeded to set the table. The worst of Cabot’s 
distress had already been relieved by a cup of 
cold tea and a ship’s biscuit. How, finding that 
he was able to talk, his host could no longer re- 
strain his curiosity, but began to ask questions. 
He had already learned Cabot’s name, and told 
his own, which was Whiteway Baldwin, “ called 
White for short,” he had added. How he said: 

“ You needn’t talk, if you don’t feel like it, but 
I do wish you could tell how you came to be drift- 
ing all alone on that raft.” 

“ A steamer that I was on was wrecked yester- 
day, and so far as I know I am the only survivor,” 
answered Cabot. 

“ Goodness ! You don’t say so! What steamer 


BALDWIN AND HIS “ SEA BEE” 47 


was she, where was she bound, and what part of 
the coast was she wrecked on? ” 

“ She was the ‘ Lavinia ’ from New York for 
St. J ohns, and she wasn’t wrecked on any part of 
the coast, but was lost at sea.” 

“ J iminetty ! The ‘ Lavinia ’ ! It don’t seem 
possible. How did it happen? There hasn’t 
been any gale. Did she blow up, or what ? ” 

"I don’t know,” replied Cabot, “for I was 
down-stairs when it took place, and my stateroom 
door was jammed so that I couldn’t get out for a 
long time. I only know that there was the most 
awful crash I ever heard, and it seemed as though 
the ship were being torn to pieces. Then there 
came an explosion, and when I got on deck the 
ship was sinking so fast that I had only time to 
cut loose the raft before she went down.” 

“ What became of the others? ” asked White 
excitedly. 

“ I am afraid they were drowned, for I heard 
them shouting just before she sank, but there was 
such a cloud of steam, smoke, and fog that I 
couldn’t see a thing, and after it was all over I 
seemed to be the only one left.” 

“ Wasn’t there a rock or ship or anything she 
might have run into? ” asked the young skipper, 
whose tanned face had grown pale as he listened 
to this tale of sudden disaster. 

“ There was an iceberg,” replied Cabot, “ but 


48 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


when I went down-stairs it wasn’t very close, and 
the sun was shining, so that it was in plain sight.” 

“ That must be what she struck, though,” de- 
clared the other. Then he thrust his head up 
the companionway and shouted : “ Hear the 
news, Dave. The ‘ Lavinia’s ’ lost with all on 
board, except the chap we’ve just picked up.” 

“ What happened her? ” asked the man lacon- 
ically. 

“ He says she ran into an iceberg in clear day, 
bust up, and sank with all hands, inside of a min- 
ute.” 

“Rot!” replied the practical sailor. “The 
‘ Laviny ’ had collision bulkheads, and couldn’t 
have sunk in no sich time, ef she could at all. 
’Sides Cap’n Phinney ain’t no man to run down 
a berg in clear day, nor yet in the night, nor no 
other time. He’s been on this coast and the 
Labrador run too long fur any sich foolishness. 
Ho, son, ef the ( Laviny ’s ’ lost, which mind, I 
don’t say she ain’t, she’s lost some other way 
’sides that, an’ you can tell your friend so with 
my compliments.” 

Cabot did not overhear these remarks, and 
wondered at the queer look on the young skip- 
per’s face when he reentered the cabin, as he did 
at the silence with which the latter resumed his 
preparations for supper. At the same time he 
was still too weak, and, in spite of his biscuit, too 


BALDWIN AND HIS “SEA BEE A 49 


ravenously hungry to care for further conversa- 
tion just then. So it was only after a most satis- 
factory meal and several cups of very hot tea that 
he was ready in his turn to ask questions. But 
he was not given the chance; for, as soon as 
White Baldwin was through with eating, he went 
on deck to relieve the tiller, and the other mem- 
ber of the crew, whose name was David Gidge, 
came below. 

He was a man of remarkable appearance, of 
very broad shoulders and long arms; but with 
legs so bowed outward as to materially lower his 
stature, which would have been short at best, and 
convert his gait into an absurd waddle. His face 
was disfigured by a scar across one cheek that so 
drew that comer of his mouth downward as to 
produce a peculiarly forbidding expression. He 
also wore a bristling iron-grey beard that grew 
in form of a fringe or ruff, and added an air of 
ferocity to his make up. 

As this striking-looking individual entered the 
cabin and rolled into a seat at the table, he cast 
one glance, accompanied by a grunt, at Cabot, 
and then proceeded to attend strictly to the busi- 
ness in hand. He ate in such prodigious haste, 
and gulped his food in such vast mouthfuls, that 
he had cleaned the table of its last crumb, and 
was fiercely stuffing black tobacco into a still 
blacker pipe, before Cabot, who really wished to 
4 


50 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


talk with him, had decided how to open the con- 
versation. Lighting his pipe and puffing it into 
a ruddy glow, Mr. Gidge made a waddling exit 
from the cabin, bestowing on our lad another 
grunt as he passed him, and leaving an eddying 
wake of rank tobacco smoke to mark his passage. 

For some time after this episode Cabot strug- 
gled to keep awake in the hope that White would 
return and answer some of his questions; but 
finally weariness overcame him, and he fell into 
a sleep that lasted without a break until after sun- 
rise of the following morning. 

In the meantime the little schooner had held 
her course, and swept onward past the flashing 
beacons of Cape Race, Cape Pine, and Cape St. 
Mary, until, at daylight, she was standing across 
the broad reach of Placentia Bay towards the 
bald headland of Cape Chapeau Rouge. She 
was making a fine run, and in spite of his weari- 
ness after a six hours’ watch on deck, White 
Baldwin presented a cheery face to Cabot, as the 
latter vainly strove to recognise and account for 
his surroundings. 

“ Good morning,” said the young skipper, “ I 
hope you have slept well, and are feeling all right 
again.” 

“ Yes, thank you,” replied Cabot, suddenly re- 
membering, “ I slept splendidly, and am as fit as 
a fiddle. Have we made a good run? ” 


BALDWIN AND HIS “SEA BEE” 51 


“ Fine; we have come nearly a hundred miles 
from the place where we picked you up.” 

“ Then we must be almost to St. Johns,” sug- 
gested Cabot, tumbling from his bunk as he 
spoke. “ I am glad, for it is important that I 
should get there as quickly as possible.” 

“ St. Johns!” replied the other blankly. “ Did- 
n’t you know that we had come from St. J ohns, 
and were going in the opposite direction? Why, 
we are more than one hundred and fifty miles 
from there at this minute.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE FRENCH SHORE QUESTION. 

Although Cabot had had no reason to sup- 
pose that the “ Sea Bee ” was on her way to St. 
Johns, it had not for a moment occurred to him 
that she could be going anywhere else. Thus 
the news that they were not only a long way 
from the place he wished to reach, but steadily 
increasing their distance from it, so surprised 
him that for a moment he sat on the edge of his 
bunk gazing at the speaker as though doubting if 
he had heard aright. Finally he asked: “ Where, 
then, are we bound ? ” 

“To Pretty Harbour, around on the west coast, 
where I live,” was the answer. 

“I’d be willing to give you fifty dollars to 
turn around and carry me to St. Johns,” said 
Cabot. 

“ Couldn’t do it if you offered me a hundred, 
much as I need the money, and glad as I would 
be to oblige you, for I’ve got to get home in a 
hurry if I want to find any home to get to. You 
see, it’s this way,” continued White, noting 


THE FRENCH SHORE QUESTION 53 


Cabot’s look of inquiry, “ Pretty Harbour being 
on the French shore ” 

“ What do you mean by the French shore? ” 
interrupted Cabot. “ I thought you lived in 
Newfoundland, and that it was an English 
island.” 

“ So it is,” explained White; “but, for some 
reason or other, I don’t know why, England 
made a treaty with France nearly two hundred 
years ago, by which the French were granted 
fishing privileges from Cape Ray along the whole 
west coast to Cape Bauld, and from there down 
the east coast as far as Cape St. John. By an- 
other treaty made some years afterwards France 
was granted, for her own exclusive use, the 
islands of Miquelon and St. Pierre, that lie just 
ahead of us now. 

“ In the meantime the French have been al- 
lowed to do pretty much as they pleased with the 
west coast, until now they claim exclusive rights 
to its fisheries, and will hardly allow us natives to 
catch what we want for our own use. They send 
warships to enforce their demands, and these 
compel us to sell bait to French fishermen at such 
price as they choose to offer. Why, I have seen 
men forced to sell bait to the French at thirty 
cents a barrel, when Canadian and American fish- 
ing boats were offering five times that much for 
it. At the same time the French officers forbid 


54 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


us to sell to any but Frenchmen, declaring that 
if we do they will not only prevent us from fish- 
ing, but will destroy our nets.” 

“ I should think you would call on English 
warships for protection,” said Cabot. “ There 
surely must be some on this station.” 

“ Yes,” replied the other, bitterly, “ there are, 
but they always take the part of the French, and 
do even more than they towards breaking up our 
business.” 

“What?” cried Cabot. “British warships 
take part with the French against their own peo- 
ple! That is one of the strangest things I ever 
heard of, and I can’t understand it. Is not this 
an English colony? ” 

“ Yes, it is England’s oldest colony; but, while 
I was bom in it, and have lived here all my life, 
I don’t understand the situation any better than 
you.” 

“ It seems to me,” continued Cabot, “ that the 
conditions here must be fully as bad as those that 
led to the American Revolution, and I should 
think you Newfoundlanders would rebel, and set 
up a government of your own, or join the United 
States, or do something of that kind.” 

“Perhaps we would if we could,” replied 
White; “but our country is only a poor little 
island, with a population of less than a quarter 
of a million. If we should rebel, we would have 


THE FRENCH SHORE QUESTION. 55 


to fight both England and France. We should 
have to do it without help, too, for the United 
States, which is the only country we desire to 
join, does not want us. So you see there is noth- 
ing for us to do but accept the situation, and get 
along as best we can.” 

“ Why don’t you emigrate to the States?” sug- 
gested Cabot. 

“ Plenty of people whom I know have done 
so,” replied the young Newfoundlander, “ and I 
might, too, if it were not for my mother and 
sister; but I don’t know how I could make a liv- 
ing for them in the States, or even for myself. 
You see, everything we have in the world is tied 
up right here. Besides, it would be hard to 
leave one’s own country and go to live among 
strangers. Don’t you think so? ” 

“How do you make a living here?” asked 
Cabot, ignoring the last question. 

“ We have made it until now by canning lob- 
sters; but it looks as though even that business 
was to be stopped from this on.” 

“ Why ? Is it wrong to can lobsters ? ” 

“ On the French shore, it seems to be one of 
the greatest crimes a person can commit, worse 
even than smuggling, and the chief duty of Brit- 
ish warships on this station is to break it up.” 

“Well, that beats all!” exclaimed Cabot. 
“Why is canning lobsters considered so wicked?” 


56 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


u I don’t know that I can explain it very 
clearly/’ replied the young. skipper of the “ Sea 
Bee,” “ but, so far as I can make out, it is this 
way: You see, the west coast of Newfoundland is 
one of the best places in the world for lobsters. 
So when the settlers there found they were not 
allowed to make a living by fishing, they turned 
their attention to catching and canning them. 
They thought, of course, that in this they would 
not be molested, since the French right was 
only to take and dry fish, which, in this coun- 
try, means only codfish. They were so success- 
ful at the new business that after a while the 
French also began to establish lobster canneries. 
As no one interfered with them they finally be- 
came so’ bold as to order the closing of all fac- 
tories except their own, and to actually destroy 
the property of such English settlers as were en- 
gaged in the business. Then there were riots, 
and we colonists appealed to Parliament for pro- 
tection in our rights.” 

“ Of course they granted it,” said Cabot, who 
was greatly interested. 

“ Of course they did nothing of the kind,” re- 
sponded White, bitterly. “ The English author- 
ities only remonstrated gently with the French, 
who by that time were claiming an exclusive 
right to all the business of the west coast, and 
finally it was agreed to submit the whole ques- 


THE FRENCH SHORE QUESTION. 57 


tion to arbitration. It has never yet been arbi- 
trated, though that was some years ago. In the 
meantime an arrangement was made by which 
all lobster factories in existence on July 1, 1889, 
were allowed to continue their business, but no 
others might be established.” 

“ Was your factory one of those then in exist- 
ence? ” asked Cabot. 

“ It was completed, and ready to begin work a 
whole month before that date ; but the captain of 
a French frigate told my father that if he canned 
a single lobster his factory would be destroyed. 
Father appealed to the commander of a British 
warship for protection; but was informed that 
none could be given, and that if he persisted in 
the attempt to operate his factory his own coun- 
trymen would be compelled to aid the French in 
its destruction. On that, father went to law, 
but it was not until the season was ended that the 
British captain was found to have had no author- 
ity for his action. So father sued him for dam- 
ages, and obtained judgment for five thousand 
dollars. lie never got the money, though, and 
by the time the next season came round the law 
regarding factories in existence on the first of 
the previous J uly was in force. Then the ques- 
tion came up, whether or no our factory had 
been in existence at that time. The French 
claim that it was not, because no work had been 


58 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


done in it, while we claim that, but for illegal 
interference, work would have been carried on 
for a full month before the fixed date.” 

“ How was the question settled?” asked Cabot. 

“ It was not settled until a few days ago, when 
a final decision was rendered against us, and now 
the property is liable to be destroyed at any min- 
ute. Father fought the case until it worried him 
to death, and mother has been fighting it ever 
since. All our property, except the factory it- 
self, this schooner, and a few hundred acres of 
worthless land, has gone to the lawyers. "While 
they have fought over the case, I have made a 
sort of a living for the family by running the 
factory at odd times, when there was no warship 
at hand to prevent. This season promises to be 
one of the best for lobsters ever known, and we 
had so nearly exhausted our supply of cans that 
I went to St. Johns for more. While there I 
got private information that the suit had gone 
against us, and that the commander of the war- 
ship ‘ Comattus/ then in port, had received 
orders to destroy our factory during his annual 
cruise along the French shore. The i Com- 
attus ” was to start as soon as the ‘ Lavinia ’ 
arrived. The minute I heard this I set out in a 
hurry for home, in the hope of having time to 
pack the extra cases I have on board this 
schooner, and get them out of the way before the 


THE FRENCH SHORE QUESTION 59 


warship arrives. That is one reason I am in 
such a hurry, and can’t spare the time to take 
you to St. J ohns. I wouldn’t even have stopped 
long enough to investigate your raft if you had 
been a mile further off our course than you 
were.” 

“ Then all my yesterday’s rowing didn’t go for 
nothing,” said Cabot. 

“ I should say not. It was the one thing that 
saved you, so far as this schooner is concerned. 
I’m in a hurry for another reason, too. If the 
French get word that a decision has been ren- 
dered against us, and that the factory is to be 
destroyed, they will pounce down on it in a jiffy, 
and carry away everything worth taking, to one 
of their own factories.” 

“ I don’t wonder you are in a hurry,” said 
Cabot. “ I know I should be, in your place, and 
I don’t blame you one bit for not wanting to take 
me back to St. Johns; but I wish you would tell 
me the next best way of getting there. You see, 
having lost everything in the way of an outfit it 
is necessary for me to procure a new one. Be- 
sides that and the business I have on hand, it 
seems to me that, as the only survivor of the 
‘ Lavinia,’ I ought to report her loss as soon as 
possible.” 

“ Yes,” agreed White, “ of course you ought; 
though the longer it is unknown the longer the 


60 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


‘ Comattus ’ will wait for her, and the more time 
I shall have.” 

“ Provided some French ship doesn’t get after 
you,” suggested Cabot. 

“ Yes, I realise that, and as I am going to stop 
at St. Pierre, to see whether the frigate ‘ Isla 9 is 
still in that harbour, I might set you ashore there. 
From St. Pierre you can get a steamer for St. 
J ohns, and even if you have to wait a few days 
you could telegraph your news as quickly as you 
please.” 

“ All right,” agreed Cabot. “ I shall be sorry 
to leave you; but if that is the best plan you can 
think of I will accept it, and shall be grateful if 
you will set me ashore as soon as possible.” 

Thus it was settled, and a few hours later the 
“ Sea Bee ” poked her nose around Gallantry 
Head, and ran into the picturesque, foreign- 
looking port of St. Pierre. The French frigate 
“Isla,” that had more than once made trouble 
for the Baldwins, lay in the little harbour, black 
and menacing. Hoping not to be recognized, 
White gave her as wide a berth as possible; but 
he had hardly dropped anchor when a boat — con- 
taining an officer, and manned by six sailors — 
shot out from her side, and was pulled directly 
towards the schooner. 


CHAPTER VII. 


DEFYING A FRIGATE. 

“ I wonder what’s up now? ” said White Bald- 
win, in a troubled tone, as he watched the ap- 
proaching man-of-war’s boat. 

“ Mischief of some kind,” growled David 
Gidge, as he spat fiercely into the water. “I 
hain’t never knowed a Frencher to be good fur 
nawthin’ else but mischief.” 

“ Perhaps it’s a health officer,” suggested 
Cabot. 

“ It’s worse than that,” replied White. 

“ A customs officer, then? ” 

“ He comes from the shore.” 

“ Then perhaps it’s an invitation for us to go 
and dine with the French captain? ” 

“ I’ve no doubt it’s an invitation of some kind, 
and probably one that is meant to be accepted.” 

At this juncture the French boat dashed 
alongside, and, without leaving his place, the 
lieutenant in command said in fair English : 

“ Is not zat ze boat of Monsieur Baldwin of 
Pretty Harbour on ze cote Frangaise? ” 


62 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ It is,” replied the young skipper, curtly. 

“ You haf, of course, ze papaire of health, and 
ze papaire of clearance for St. Pierre? ” 

“ Ho; I have no papers except a certificate of 
registry.” 

“Ah! Is it possible? In zat case ze com- 
mandant of ze frigate ‘ Isla ’ will be please to see 
you on board at your earlies’ convenience.” 

“ I thought so,” said White, in a low tone. 
Then aloud, he replied : “ All right, lieutenant. 
I’ll sail over there, and hunt up a good place to 
anchor, just beyond your ship, and as soon as I’ve 
made all snug I’ll come aboard. Up with your 
mud hook, Dave.” 

As Mr. Gidge began to work the windlass, 
Cabot sprang to help him, and, within a minute, 
the recently dropped anchor was again broken 
out. Then, at a sharp order, David hoisted and 
trimmed the jib, leaving Cabot to cat the anchor. 
The fore and main sails had not been lowered. 
Thus within two minutes’ time the schooner was 
again under way, and standing across the harbour 
towards the big warship. 

The rapidity of these movements apparently 
somewhat bewildered the Trench officer, who, 
while narrowly watching them, did not utter a 
word of remonstrance. Uow, as the “ Sea Bee ” 
moved away, his boat was started in the same 
direction. 


DEFYING A FRIGATE. 


63 


Without paying any further attention to it, 
White Baldwin luffed his little craft across the 
frigate’s bow, and the moment he was hidden 
beyond her, bore broad away, passing close along 
the opposite side of the warship, from which hun- 
dreds of eyes watched his movements with lan- 
guid curiosity. 

The boat, in the meantime, had headed for 
the stern of the frigate, with a view to gaining 
her starboard gangway, somewhere near which 
its officer supposed White to be already anchor- 
ing. What was his amazement, therefore, as he 
drew within the shadow of his ship, to see the 
schooner shoot clear of its further side, and go 
flying down the wind, lee rail under. For a 
moment he looked to see her round to and come 
to anchor. Then, springing to his feet, he yelled 
for her to do so; upon which White Baldwin took 
off his cap, and made a mocking bow. 

At this the enraged officer whipped out a re- 
volver, and began to fire wildly in the direction 
of the vanishing schooner, which, for answer, 
displayed a British Union J ack at her main peak. 
Three minutes later the saucy craft had rounded 
a projecting headland and disappeared, leaving 
the outwitted officer to get aboard his ship at his 
leisure, and make such report as seemed to him 
best. 

After the exciting incident was ended, and 


64 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


the little “ Sea Bee ” had gained the safety of 
open water, Cabot grasped the young skipper’s 
hand and shook it heartily. 

“ It was fine ! ” he cried, “ though I don’t see 
how you dared do it. Weren’t you afraid they 
would fire at us? ” 

“ Not a bit,” laughed White. “ They didn’t 
realise what we were up to until we were well 
past them, and then they hadn’t time to get 
ready before we were out of range. I don’t be- 
lieve they would dare fire on the British flag, 
anyway; especially as we hadn’t done a thing to 
them. I almost wish they had, though; for I 
would be willing to lose this schooner and a good 
deal besides for the sake of bringing on a war 
that should drive the French from Newfound- 
land.” 

“ But what did they want of you, and what 
would have happened if you had not given them 
the slip? ” 

“ I expect they wanted to hold me here until 
they heard how our case had gone, so that I 
couldn’t get back to the factory before they had 
a chance to run up there and seize it. Like as 
not they would have kept us on one excuse or 
another — lack of papers or something of that sort 
— for a week or two, and by the time they let us 
go some one else would have owned the Pretty 
Harbour lobster factory.” 




AT THIS THE ENRAGED OFFICER WHIPPED OUT A REVOLVER. 





















, 



DEFYING A FRIGATE. 


67 


“ Would they really have dared do such a 
thing? ” asked Cabot, to whom the idea of for- 
eign interference in the local affairs of New- 
foundland was entirely new. 

“ Certainly they would. The French dare do 
anything they choose on this coast, and no one 
interferes.” 

“ Well,” said Cabot, “ it seems a very curious 
situation, and one that a stranger finds hard to 
understand. However, so long as the French 
possess such a power for mischief, I congratu- 
late you more than ever on having escaped 
them. At the same time I am disappointed 
at not being able to land at St. Pierre, and 
should like to know where you are going to take 
me next.” 

“ I declare ! In my hurry to get out of that 
trap, I forgot all about you wanting to land,” ex- 
claimed White, “ and now there isn’t a place 
from which you can get to St. Johns short of 
Port aux Basques, which is about one hundred 
and fifty miles west of here.” 

“ How may I reach St. Johns from there? ” 

“ By the railway across the island, of which 
Port aux Basques is the terminus. A steamer 
from Sidney, on Cape Breton, connects with a 
train there every other day.” 

“ Very good; Port aux Basques it is,” agreed 
Cabot, “ and I shan’t be sorry after all for a 


68 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


chance to cross the island by train and see what 
its interior looks like.” 

So our young engineer continued his involun- 
tary voyage, and devoted his time to acquiring 
all sorts of information about the great northern 
island, as well as to the study of navigation. In 
this latter line of research he even succeeded in 
producing a favorable impression upon David 
Gidge, who finally admitted that it wasn’t always 
safe to judge a man from his appearance, and 
that this young feller had more in him than 
showed at first sight. 

While thus creating a favorable impression 
for himself, Cabot grew much interested in the 
young skipper of the schooner. He was sur- 
prised to find one in his position so gentlemanly 
a chap, as well as so generally well informed, and 
wondered where he had picked it all up. 

“ Are there good schools at Pretty Harbour? ” 
he asked, with a view to solving this problem. 

“ There is one, but it is only fairly good,” an- 
swered White. 

“ Did you go to it? ” 

“ Oh, no,” laughed the other. “ I went to 
school as well as to college in St. Johns. You 
see, father was a merchant there until he bought 
a great tract of land on the west coast. Then he 
gave up his business in the city and came over 
here to establish a lobster factory, which at that 


DEFYING A FRIGATE. 


69 


time promised to pay better than anything else 
on the island. He left ns all in St. Johns, and 
it was only after his death that we came over 
here to live and try to save something from the 
wreck of his property. How I don’t know what 
is to become of us; for, unless one is allowed to 
can lobsters, there isn’t much chance of making 
a living on the French shore. If it wasn’t for 
the others, I should take this schooner and try a 
trading trip to Labrador, but mother has become 
so much of an invalid that I hate to leave her 
with only my sister.” 

“ What is your sister’s name ? ” 

“ Cola.” 

“ That’s an odd name, and one I never heard 
before, but I think I like it.” 

“ So do I,” agreed White; “ though I expect I 
should like any name belonging to her, for she is 
a dear girl. One reason I am so fond of this 
schooner is because it is named for her.” 

“ How is that? ” 

“ Why, it is the ‘ Sea Bee,’ and these are her 
initials.” 

It was early on the second morning after leav- 
ing St. Pierre that the “ Sea Bee ” drifted slowly 
into the harbour of Port aux Basques, where the 
yacht-like steamer “ Bruce ” lay beside its single 
wharf. She had just completed her six-hour 
run across Cabot Strait, from Horth Sidney, 


70 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


eighty-five miles away, and close at hand stood 
the narrow-gauge train that was to carry her pas- 
sengers and mails to St. Johns. It would oc- 
cupy twenty-eight hours in making the run of 
550 miles from coast to coast, and our lad looked 
forward to the trip with pleasant anticipations. 

But he was again doomed to disappointment; 
for while the schooner was still at some distance 
from the wharf, the train was seen to be in mo- 
tion. In vain did Cabot shout and wave his cap. 
Ho attention was paid to his signals, and a min- 
ute later the train had disappeared. There 
would not be another for two days, and the 
young engineer gazed about him with dismay. 
Port aux Basques appeared to be only a railway 
terminus, offering no accommodation for trav- 
ellers, and presenting, with its desolate surround- 
ings, a scene of cheerless inhospitality. 

“ That’s what I call tough luck! ” exclaimed 
White Baldwin, sympathetically. 

“ Isn’t it? ” responded Cabot; “ and what I am 
to do with myself in this dreary place after you 
are gone, I can’t imagine.” 

“ Seems to me you’d better stay right where 
you are, and run up the coast with us to St. 
George’s Bay, where there is another station at 
which you can take the next train.” 

“ I should like to,” replied Cabot, “if you 
would allow me to pay for my passage; but I 


DEFYING A FRIGATE. 


71 


don’t want to impose upon your hospitality any 
longer.” 

“ Nonsense!” exclaimed White. “You are 
already doing your full share of the work aboard 
here, and even if you weren’t of any help, I 
should be only too happy to have you stay with 
us until the end of the run, for the pleasure of 
your company.” 

“ That settles it,” laughed Cabot. “ I will go 
with you as far as St. George’s, and be glad of 
the chance. But, while we are here, I think I 
ought to send in the news about the ‘ Lavinia.’ ” 

As White agreed that this should be done at 
once, Cabot was set ashore, and made his way to 
the railway telegraph office, where he asked the 
operator to whom in St. Johns he should send 
the news of a wreck. 

“ What wreck? ” asked the operator. 

“ Steamer ‘ Lavinia.’ ” 

“ There’s no need to send that to anybody, for 
it’s old news, and went through here last night as 
a press despatch. ‘ Lavinia ’ went too close to 
an iceberg, that capsized, and struck her with 
long, under- water projection. Lifted steamer 
from water, broke her back, boiler exploded, and 
that was the end of ‘ Lavinia.’ Mate’s boat 
reached St. J ohns, and ‘ Comattus ’ has gone to 
look for other possible survivors.” 

As Cabot had nothing to add to this story, he 


72 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


merely sent a short despatch to Mr. Hepburn, 
announcing his own safety, and then returned 
to the schooner with his news. 

“ Good!” exclaimed White, when he heard it. 
“ I hope the i Comattus ’ will find those she 
has gone to look for; and I’m mighty glad she 
has got something to do that will keep her away 
from here for a few days longer. How, Dave, 
up with the jib.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED. 

Cabot had been impressed by the rugged 
scenery of the Nova Scotia shore line, but it had 
been tame as compared with the stern grandeur 
of that unfolded when the “ Sea Bee ” rounded 
Cape Ray and was headed up the west coast of 
Newfoundland. He had caught glimpses of 
lofty promontories and precipitous cliffs as the 
schooner skirted the southern end of the island; 
but most of the time it had kept too far from 
shore for him to appreciate the fuarvellous de- 
tails. Now, however, as they beat up against 
a head wind, they occasionally ran in so close as 
to be wet by drifting spray from the roaring 
breakers that ceaselessly dashed against the 
mighty wall, rising, grim and sheer, hundreds of 
feet above them. Everywhere the rock was 
stained a deep red, indicating the presence of 
iron, and everywhere it had been rent or shat- 
tered into a thousand fantastic forms. At short 
intervals the massive cliffs were wrenched apart 
to make room for narrow fiords, of unknown 


74 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


depth, that penetrated for miles into the land, 
where they formed intricate mazes of placid 
waterways. Beside them there were nestled 
tiny fishing villages of whitewashed houses, 
though quite as often these were perched on ap- 
parently inaccessible crags, overlooking shel- 
tered coves of the outer coast. 

On the tossing waters fronting them, fleets of 
fishing boats, with sails tanned a ruddy brown, 
like those of the “ Sea Bee,” or blackened by coal 
tar, darted with the grace and fearlessness of 
gulls, or rested as easily on the heaving surface, 
while the fishermen, clad in yellow oilskins, pur- 
sued their arduous toil. 

To our young American the doings of these 
hardy seafarers proved so interesting that he 
never tired of watching them nor of asking ques- 
tions concerning their perilous occupation. And 
he had plenty of time in which to acquire infor- 
mation, for so adverse were the winds that only 
by the utmost exertion did White Baldwin suc- 
ceed in getting his schooner to the St. George’s 
landing in time for Cabot to run to the railway 
station just as the train from Port aux Basques 
was coming in. 

The two lads exchanged farewells with sin- 
cere regrets, after White had extended a most 
cordial invitation to the other to finish the cruise 
with him, and visit his home at Pretty Harbour. 


A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED. 75 


Much as Cabot wished to accept this invitation, 
he had declined it for the present, on the plea 
that he ought first to go to St. Johns. At the 
same time he had promised to try and make the 
proposed visit before leaving the island, to which 
White had replied: 

“ Don’t delay too long, then, or you may not 
find us at home, for there is no knowing what 
may happen when the warships get there.” 

Even David Gidge shook hands with the de- 
parting guest, and said it was a pity he couldn’t 
stay with them a while longer, seeing that he 
might be made into a very fair sort of a sailor 
with proper training. 

With one regretful backward glance, Cabot 
left the little schooner on which he had come to 
feel so much at home, and sprinted towards the 
station, where was gathered half the population 
of the village — men, women, children, and dogs. 
The train was already at the platform as he made 
his way through this crowd, wondering if he had 
time to purchase a ticket, and he glanced at it 
curiously. It was well filled, and heads were 
thrust from most of the car windows on that side. 
Through one window Cabot saw a quartette of 
men too busily engaged over a game of cards to 
take note of their surroundings. As our lad’s 
gaze fell on these, he suddenly stood still and 
stared. Then he turned, pushed out from the 


76 UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 

crowd, and made his way back towards the land- 
ing as rapidly as he had come from it a few min- 
utes before. 

The “ Sea Bee ” was under way, but had not 
got beyond hail, and was put back when her crew 
discovered who was signalling them so vigor- 
ously. 

“ What is the matter? ” inquired her young 
skipper, as Cabot again clambered aboard. 
“ Did you miss the train after all? ” 

“ No,” replied Cabot. “ I could have caught 
it; but made up my mind at the last moment that 
I might just as well go with you to Pretty Har- 
bour now as to try and visit it later.” 

“ Good ! ” cried White, heartily. “ I am 
awfully glad you did. We were feeling blue 
enough without you, weren’t we, Dave? ” 

“Blue warn’t no name fer it,” replied Mr. 
Gidge. “ It were worse than a drop in the price 
of fish; an’ now I feel as if they’d riz a dollar a 
kental.” 

“ Thank you both,” laughed Cabot. “ I 
hadn’t any idea how much I should hate to leave 
the old ‘ Bee ’ until I tried to do it. You said 
there was another station that I could reach from 
your place, didn’t you? ” he added, turning to 
White. 

“Yes. There is one at Bay of Islands that 
can be reached by a drive of a few hours from 


A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED. 77 


Pretty Harbour; and Pll carry you over there 
any time you like ,” replied the latter. 

“ That settles it, then; and I’ll let St. Johns 
wait a few days longer.” 

So the little schooner was again headed sea- 
ward, and set forth at a nimble pace for her run 
around Cape St. George and up the coast past 
Port au Port to the exquisitely beautiful Bay of 
Islands, on which Pretty Harbour is located; and, 
as she bore him away, Cabot hoped he had done 
the right thing. 

When commissioned to undertake this journey 
that was proving so full of incident, our young 
engineer had been only too glad of an excuse to 
break his engagement with Thorpe Walling; for, 
as has been said, the latter was not a person 
whom he particularly liked. Walling, on the 
other hand, had boasted that the most popular 
fellow in the Institute had chosen above all 
things to take a trip around the world in his com- 
pany, and was greatly put out by the receipt of 
Cabot’s telegram announcing his change of plan. 
The more Thorpe reflected upon this grievance 
the more angry did he become, until he finally 
swore enmity against Cabot Grant, and to get 
even with him if ever he had the chance. 

He was provoked that his chosen companion 
should have dismissed him so curtly, without any 
intimation of what he proposed to do, and this he 


78 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


determined to discover. So he went to New 
York and made inquiries at the offices of the 
company acting as Cabot’s guardian; but could 
only learn that the young man had left the city 
after two private interviews with President Hep- 
burn. At the club where Cabot had lunched on 
the day of his departure, Thorpe’s appearance 
created surprise. 

“ Thought you had started off with Grant on a 
trip around the world?” said one member in 
greeting him. 

“ No,” replied Walling; “ we are not going.” 

“But he sailed two days ago. At least, he 
said that was what he was about to do when he 
bade me good-bye on his way to the steamer.” 

“What steamer, and where was she bound? ” 
asked Thorpe. 

“ Don’t know. He only said he was about to 
sail.” 

“ I’ll not be beaten that way,” thought Wall- 
ing, angrily; and, having plenty of money to ex- 
pend as best suited him, he straightway engaged 
the services of a private detective. This man 
was instructed to ascertain for what port a cer- 
tain Cabot Grant had sailed from New York two 
days earlier, and that very evening the coveted 
information was in his possession. 

“ Sailed on the 1 Lavinia ’ for St. Johns, New- 
foundland, has he ? ” muttered Thorpe. “ Then 


A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED. 79 


I, too, will visit St. Johns, and discover what 
he is doing. I might as well go there as any- 
where else; and perhaps Grant will find out 
that it would have been wiser to confide in an 
old friend than to treat him as shabbily as he 
has me.” 

Having reached this decision, Walling took a 
train from Hew York, and, travelling by way of 
Boston, Portland, and Bangor, crossed the St. 
Croix Biver from Maine into Hew Brunswick at 
Yanceboro. Prom there he went, via St. John, 
H.B., and Truro, Hova Scotia, to Port Mulgrave, 
where he passed over the Strait of Canso to Cape 
Breton. Across that island his route lay through 
the Bras d’Or country to Horth Sidney, at which 
point he took steamer for Port aux Basques and 
the Hewfoundland railway that should finally 
land him in St. Johns. On this journey he be- 
came acquainted with several Americans, with 
whom he played whist, which is what he was do- 
ing when his train pulled up at the St. George’s 
Bay platform. 

At sight of his classmate, Cabot became in- 
stantly desirious of avoiding him and the em- 
barrassing questions he would be certain to ask. 
Although our young engineer could not imagine 
why Thorpe Walling had come to Hewfound- 
land, he instinctively felt that the visit had some- 
thing to do with his own trip to the island. He 


80 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


knew that Thorpe delighted to pry into the 
secrets of others; and also that he was of a vin- 
dictive nature, quick to take offence, and un- 
scrupulous in his enmities. Therefore, as his 
instructions permitted him to visit whatever part 
of Newfoundland he chose, he decided to avoid 
St. Johns for the present rather than risk the re- 
sults of a companionship that now seemed so 
undesirable. 

Somewhat earlier on that same day one of 
Thorpe’s travelling companions, named Gregg, 
spoke to him of Newfoundland’s mineral wealth, 
and referred particularly to the Bell Island iron 
mines. 

“ Yes,” replied Walling, who had never be- 
fore heard of Bell Island, “ they must be im- 
mensely valuable.” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” said the other, carelessly. 
“ Several American companies are trying to get 
control of them; but perhaps they are not what 
they are cracked up to be after all.” 

“ Isn’t a New York man by the name of Hep- 
bum one of the interested parties? ” asked 
Thorpe, at a venture. 

“Yes, he is,” responded Mr. Gregg, turning 
on him sharply. “ Why, do you know him ? ” 

“ I can’t say that I know him; but I know a 
good deal about him, and have every reason to 
believe that he has just sent an acquaintance of 


A CLASSMATE TO BE AVOIDED . 81 


mine, a young mining engineer, up here to ex- 
amine that very property.” 

“ Is he an expert? ” 

“ Oh, yes. He and I were classmates at a 
technical institute.” 

“ Then you also are a mining engineer? ” 

“ I am.” 

“ Have you come to Newfoundland to inves- 
tigate mineral lands? ” 

“ Not exactly; though I may do something in 
that line if I find a good opening. At present I 
am merely on a pleasure trip.” 

“ I see, and I am glad to have made your ac- 
quaintance, as I am somewhat interested in min- 
eral lands myself. When we reach St. Johns I 
hope you will introduce me to your friend, and 
it may happen that I can return the favour by 
putting you on to a good thing.” 

“ Certainly, I will introduce you if we run 
across him,” replied Thorpe. “ At the same time 
I hope you won’t mention having any knowledge 
of his business, as he is trying to keep it quiet.” 

“ Like most of us who have ‘ deals ’ on hand,” 
remarked the other, with a meaning smile. 
“ But it is hard to hide them from clever chaps 
like yourself.” 

At which compliment, Thorpe, who had only 
been making some shrewd guesses, looked wise, 
but said nothing. 


6 


82 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


It happened that these two were playing whist 
when the train reached St. George’s Bay, and 
Mr. Gregg remarked to his partner : 

“ There’s a chap staring at this crowd as if he 
knew some of 11s.” 

Thorpe glanced from the window, and started 
from his seat with an exclamation. At the same 
moment Cabot Grant turned away and hurried 
from the station. 

“ Do you know him? ” asked Mr. Gregg. 

“ He is the very person I was speaking to you 
about a while ago,” replied Thorpe. 


CHAPTER IX. 


SENDING IN A FALSE REPORT. 

At sight of Cabot, Thorpe Walling’s instinct 
had been to leave the car and follow him; but the 
thought of his luggage, which he knew he could 
not get off in time, caused him to hesitate, and 
then it was too late, for the train was again in 
motion. 

“ The young man did not seem particularly 
anxious to meet his old classmate,” remarked Mr. 
Gregg. “ In fact, it rather looked as though he 
wished to avoid recognition.” 

Thorpe pretended to be too busy with his cards 
to make reply to this suggestion; but an ugly 
expression came into his face, and, from that 
moment, he hated Cabot Grant. When, on the 
following day, he reached St. J ohns and learned 
of the loss of the “ Lavinia,” with all on board, 
except those saved in the mate’s boat, he was 
more perplexed than ever. Cabot’s name was 
published as one of those who had gone down 
with the ill-fated steamer, and yet he had cer- 


84 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


tainly seen him alive and well only the day be- 
fore. What could it mean? 

“ Do you suppose Hepburn knows of his 
escape? ” asked Mr. Gregg, who was stopping at 
the same hotel, and to whom Thorpe confided 
this mystery. 

“ I haven’t an idea.” 

“ What do you say to wiring and finding out? 
It can’t do us any harm, and might gain us an in- 
sight into the old man’s plans up here.” 

“ I should say it was a good idea.” 

As a result of this desire for information the 
following telegram was sent to the president of 
the Gotham Trust and Investment Company: 

“St. Johns, N’f’l’d. — Here all right. What shall I 
do next ? C. G.” 

And the answer came promptly : 

“ Congratulations. Send B. I. report. If in need 
of funds, draw. H.” 

“That settles it! ” exclaimed Mr. Gregg, ex- 
ultingly. “Hepburn is after Bell Island, and 
your friend was sent here to report upon its 
value. How, it will be a pity if the old man 
doesn’t get his information, which he isn’t likely 
to do for some time with that young chap over on 
the west coast. Some one ought to send him a 
report.” 


SENDING IN A FALSE REPORT. 85 


“ I have a mind to do it myself,” said Thorpe, 
reflectively. 

“ It would be an awfully decent thing for you 
, to do. Be a good joke on your friend, too, and 
make him feel ashamed of himself for cutting 
you so dead yesterday, when he finds it out. He 
is bound to get into trouble if some sort of a re- 
port isn’t sent in, now that he is known to have 
escaped from the wreck.” 

“ Confound him!” exclaimed Thorpe. “I 
don’t care how soon he gets into trouble ; nor how 
much.” 

“ Oh, come. That isn’t a nice way to speak 
of an old friend and classmate,” remarked Mr. 
Gregg, reprovingly. “ How, I always feel sorry 
when I see a decent young chap like that throw- 
ing away a good chance, and want to help him if 
I can. So in the present case, I think we really 
ought to send in a report that will satisfy old 
Hepburn, and keep the boy solid with his em- 
ployers. I shouldn’t know how to word it my- 
self, but if you, with your expert knowledge of 
the subject, will make it out, of course after tak- 
ing a look at the mine, I’ll see that you don’t lose 
anything by your kindness.” 

“All right,” replied Thorpe, who was quite 
sharp enough to comprehend the other’s mean- 
ing. “I’ll do it.” 

So the two conspirators drove to the pictur- 


86 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


esque fishing village of Portugal Cove, where 
they hired a boat to carry them across to Bell 
Island. There they paid a hasty visit to the 
mine, which Mr. Gregg plausibly belittled and 
undervalued, until Thorpe really began to con- 
sider it a greatly overestimated piece of prop- 
erty, and this idea he embodied in a report that 
he wrote out that very evening. 

“ Pm glad to see that you think as I do con- 
cerning the real worthlessness of Bell Island/’ 
remarked Mr. Gregg, gravely, as he glanced over 
the paper, “ and the man who would have any- 
thing to do with it after reading this must be a 
greater fool than I take old Hepburn to be.” 

On the following day a type-written copy of 
Thorpe’s report was made, signed “ C. G.,” and 
forwarded by mail to the president of the 
Gotham Trust and Investment Company. As a 
result, a telegram was received a week later at 
the Bank of Hova Scotia in St. Johns addressed 
to Cabot Grant, and desiring him to return at 
once to Hew York. As the bank people wired 
back that they had no knowledge of any such 
person, Mr. Hepburn in reply requested them to 
keep a sharp lookout for a young man of that 
name, who would shortly present a letter of 
credit to them, and provide him with a ticket to 
Hew York on account of it, but nothing more. 
Mr. Hepburn also explained that, as Cabot 


SENDING IN A FALSE REPORT . 87 


Grant’s guardian, he had the right to thus limit 
his ward’s expenditures. 

Thus our lad fell into disgrace with his em- 
ployer, who knew, as well as any man living, the 
exact status of the Bell Island iron mine, and had 
only requested Cabot to report on it in order to 
test his fitness for other work. 

While the correspondence with the bank was 
being carried on, Messrs. Walling and Gregg 
watched for the arrival of the young engineer, 
whom they expected by every train. They also 
anxiously awaited the news that the Hepburn 
syndicate had withdrawn its offer for the Bell 
Island property, in which event it would fall, at 
a greatly reduced price, to the company repre- 
sented by Mr. Gregg. 

Totally unconscious of all this, Cabot Grant 
was at that very time in a remote comer of the 
west coast, happily engaged in aiding certain of 
its inhabitants to discomfit the combined naval 
forces of two of the most powerful governments 
of the world. Moreover, he had become so in- 
terested in this exciting occupation, as well as in 
certain discoveries that he was making, as to have 
very nearly lost sight of his intention to visit the 
capital of the island. 

When he reembarked on the “ Sea Bee ” at 
St. George’s Bay, he fully intended to catch the 
train of two days later at the station to which 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


White had promised to convey him. He was 
glad of a chance to view some more of that mag- 
nificent west coast scenery, and when the little 
schooner finally rounded South Head, and was 
pointed towards the massive front of Blomidon, 
which David Gidge called “ Blow-me-down,” he 
felt well repaid for his delay by the enchanting 
beauty of the Bay of Islands that lay outspread 
before them. 

Soon after passing South Head, the “ Sea 
Bee,” with flags flying from both masts, slipped 
through a narrow passage into the land-locked 
basin of Pretty Harbour. On its further shore 
stood a handful of white houses, and a larger 
building that fronted the water. 

“ That’s our factory ! ” cried White, “ and 
there is our house, on the hillside, just beyond. 
See, the one with the dormer windows. There’s 
Cola waving from one of them now. Bless her ! 
She must have been watching, to sight us so 
quickly. Oh, I can’t wait. Dave, you take the 
‘ Bee ’ up to the wharf. Mr. Grant will help 
you, I know, as well as excuse me if I go ashore 
first.” 

“ Of course, I will,” replied Cabot; and in an- 
other minute the young skipper was sculling 
ashore in the dinghy, while the schooner drifted 
more slowly in the same direction. 

When they finally reached the factory wharf 


SENDING IN A FALSE REPORT. 89 


White was on hand to meet them, and beside 
him stood the slender, merry-eyed girl for whom 
the schooner had been named. She unaffect- 
edly held out a hand to Cabot when they were 
introduced, and at once invited him to the house 
to meet her mother. 

“ Yes,” said White, “ you two go along, and 
don’t wait for me. You see,” he added, apolo- 
getically, to Cabot, “ there’s been a great catch of 
lobsters, and if I can only get them packed be- 
fore we are interfered with, we’ll make a pretty 
good season of it, after all.” 

So the new-comer walked with Cola up the 
straggling village street, past a score of fisher 
cottages, each with a tiny porch, pots of flowers 
in the front windows, and a bit of a garden 
fenced with wattles, to keep out the children, 
goats, dogs, and pigs, that swarmed on all sides. 
At length they came to the neatly kept and com- 
fortable-looking house, overlooking the whole, 
that White Baldwin called home. Here Cabot 
was presented to the sweet-faced invalid mother, 
who sat beside a window of the living-room, from 
which she could look out on the little harbour, 
and who was eager to learn the details of his 
recent experiences that White had only found 
time to outline to her. 

Both mother and daughter listened with 
deepest interest while Cabot told of the loss of 


90 


UNDER THE GREAT REAR. 


the “ Lavinia,” and when he had finished Mrs. 
Baldwin said : 

“ You certainly made a wonderful escape, and 
I am grateful that my boy was granted the priv- 
ilege of rescuing you from that dreadful raft. I 
am confident, also, that you have been brought 
to this place for some wise purpose, and trust 
that you are planning to remain with us as long 
as your engagements will permit.” 

“ Thank you, madam,” replied Cabot. I 
wish I might accept your hospitality for a week, 
at least. For I am certain I should find much 
to enjoy in this delightful region. I feel, how- 
ever, that I ought to catch to-morrow’s train, as 
it is rather necessary for me to reach St. Johns 
without further delay.” 

“ It seems queer,” remarked Cola, “ that this 
stupid place can strike even a stranger as being 
delightful, since there is no one to see but fisher- 
folk, who can talk of nothing but fish, and there 
isn’t a thing to do but watch the boats go and 
come. For my part, I am so tired of it all that 
I wish something would happen to send us away 
from here forever.” 

“ My dear ! ” said Mrs. Baldwin to Cola, re- 
provingly. 

“ Some one seems to have found an occupation 
here in collecting a cabinet of specimens,” sug- 
gested Cabot, indicating, as he spoke, some 



“DID this come from about HERE ? ’ 















I 






SENDING IN A FALSE REPORT . 93 


shelves covered with bits of rock, that had at- 
tracted his attention. 

“ Yes,” admitted Cola, “ I have found some 
amusement in gathering those things; but I 
don’t know what half of them are, and there is 
no one here to tell me.” 

“ Possibly I might help you to name some of 
them,” said Cabot, “as I have a bowing acquaint- 
ance with geology.” 

“ Oh! can you? ” cried the girl. “ Then I wish 
you would, right away, for I am almost certain 
that several of them contain minerals, and I want 
awfully to know if they are gold.” 

The next moment the two young people were 
standing before the cabinet, deep in the mys- 
teries of periods, ages, formations, series, and 
other profound geologic terms. All at once 
Cabot paused, and, holding a bit of serpentine 
in his hand, asked : 

“ Did this come from about here ? ” 

“Yes; all of them did.” 

“ Could you show me the place, or somewhere 
near where you found it? ” 

“ I think I could, if we had time ; but not if 
you are going away in the morning, for it would 
take at least half a day.” 

“Well,” said Cabot, “I believe I might wait 
over long enough for that, and guess I won’t 
start for St. Johns to-morrow, after all.” 


CHAPTER X. 


CABOT ACQUIRES A LOBSTER FACTORY. 

The Baldwins were greatly pleased at Cabot’s 
decision to wait over a train; for, as Mrs. Bald- 
win said, a desirable guest in that out-of-the-way 
corner of the world was the greatest of luxuries. 
White was glad to prolong the friendship so 
strangely begun, and also to escape a present 
necessity for leaving his work to carry Cabot to 
the distant railway station, while Cola was de- 
lighted to have found what she termed a geologic 
companion. After it was arranged that these 
two should set forth early the following day on a 
search for specimens, Cabot strolled down to the 
factory to learn something of the process of can- 
ning lobsters. 

He was amazed at the change effected in so 
short a time. When he landed at Pretty Har- 
bour the factory had been closed, silent, and de- 
serted. How it was a hive of bustling activity, 
in which every available person of the village, 
including women and children, was hard at 
work. Fires were blazing under a number of 


ACQUIRES A LOBSTER FACTORY. 95 


great kettles half filled with boiling water. In- 
to these, green lobsters were tossed by barrow- 
fuls, to be taken out a little later smoking hot 
and coloured a vivid scarlet. On the packing 
tables their shells were broken, and the extracted 
meat was put into cans, to which covers, each 
with a tiny hole in the middle, were soldered. 
Then the filled cans were steamed, by trayfuls, 
to exhaust their air; a drop of solder closed each 
vent, and they were ready for labelling and pack- 
ing in cases. White Baldwin, in person, super- 
intended all these operations, while David Gidge 
saw to the unloading of the “ Sea Bee,” and kept 
sharp watch on a gang of shouting urchins, who 
were withdrawing the live lobsters from the out- 
side salt-water pens, in which they had been kept 
while awaiting their fate. 

White was in high spirits, for the travelling 
agent of a St. Johns business house had just 
offered a good cash price for his entire pack. 

“ Of course,” the young proprietor said to 
Cabot, as they viewed the busy scene, “ we won’t 
make anything like what we would if we were al- 
lowed a whole uninterrupted season; but, if they 
will only let us alone for a week, I’ll pack a thou- 
sand cases. Those will yield enough to support 
us for a year, and before that is up I’m not afraid 
but that I’ll find some other way of earning a 
living. How, if I can only get sufficient help, 


96 UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 

I’m going to run this factory night and day for 
the next week, unless compelled by force to stop 
sooner.” 

Cabot was already so interested that he 
promptly volunteered to aid in making the all- 
important pack. 

“ I don’t know anything about the business,” 
he said, “ but if you can make use of me in any 
way, I shall be only too glad of a chance to repay 
a small portion of the great debt I owe you.” 

“Nonsense!” laughed White. “You don’t 
owe me a thing, and I don’t want you to feel that 
way. At the same time I should be ever so glad 
of your help in getting things well started; for 
just now one strong fellow like you would be 
worth a dozen of those children.” 

So, a few minutes later, Cabot, clad in overalls 
and an old flannel shirt of White’s, was as hard 
at work as though the canning of lobsters was 
the business of his life. Far into the night he 
laboured, only pausing long enough to go up to the 
house for supper; and, on the following morning, 
he was actually pleased that a heavy rain storm 
should postpone the trip for specimens, furnish 
him with an excuse for prolonging his stay, and 
leave him at liberty to resume his self-imposed 
task in the factory. 

The storm lasted for two days, at the end of 
which time half the pack had been made, and 


ACQUIRES A LOBSTER FACTORY . 97 


Cabot had become so familiar with all details of 
the work as to be a most valuable assistant. On 
the third day, the supply of lobsters on hand be- 
ing exhausted, operations were suspended until 
the boats could return with a new catch; and, as 
the weather was again fine, Cabot and Cola set 
forth on their geological exploration. 

It was a glorious day, with a sky of deepest 
blue; the hot sunshine tempered by a cool breeze 
pouring in from the sea, and all nature sparkling 
with joyous life. To Cabot, who had thought 
of Newfoundland as a place of perpetual fog, 
and almost constant rain, the whole scene was a 
source of boundless delight. As the two young 
people climbed the steep ascent behind the vil- 
lage, new beauties were unfolded with each 
moment, until, when they reached the crest, and 
could look far out over the islanded bay, with 
the placid cove and its white hamlet nestling at 
their feet, Cabot declared his belief that there 
was not a more exquisite view in all the world. 

After gazing their fill, the explorers plunged 
into a sweet-scented forest of spruce and birches, 
threaded by narrow wood roads, and tramped for 
miles, stopping now and then to examine some 
outcropping ledge or gather a handful of snow- 
white capilear berries. But the main object of 
their quest, the copper-bearing serpentine, was 
not found until they had gained the summit of 
7 


98 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


the Blomidon range and were in full view of the 
sea. Then they came to a distinct outcrop of 
mineral-bearing rock that caused the eyes of the 
young geologist to glisten with anticipation. 

While he chipped off specimens, studied the 
trend of the ledge, and made such estimates of 
its character as were possible from surface indi- 
cations, his companion climbed a rocky eminence 
that, short of Blomidon itself, commanded the 
most extended view of any in that region. She 
had hardly gained the summit when she uttered 
a cry that attracted Cabot’s attention and caused 
him to hasten in her direction. In a few mo- 
ments he met her running breathlessly down the 
hill. 

“ What is it? ” he asked. “ Are you hurt? ” 

“ A warship coming up the coast,” she panted. 
“ I saw it plainly, and we must get back with the 
news as quick as we can.” 

Much as Cabot hated to give over the explora- 
tion of that wonderful copper-bearing ledge, he 
did not hesitate to obey the imperative call of 
friendship, and accompanied Cola with all speed 
back to the village. When they reached it they 
found White jubilant over the extraordinary 
catch of lobsters that was even then being 
brought in. 

“Hurrah ! ” he cried, as Cabot appeared. “Big- 
gest catch of the season, and you are just in time 


ACQUIRES A LOBSTER FACTORY. 99 


to help pack it away. But what brings you back 
so early? I thought you were off for all day.” 

“ Oh, White, they are coming! ” gasped Cola. 

“ Who are coming? ” 

“ A warship. I saw it from Maintop.” 

“ British or French? ” 

“ I don’t know. I only knew it was a warship 
because it was so much bigger than the ‘ Har- 
law ’ and had tall masts.” 

“ Well, it don’t make any difference,” growled 
White, “ one is just as bad as another, and our 
business is ruined anyway. Why couldn’t they 
have kept away for three days longer? ” 

“What will they do?” inquired Cabot, curi- 
ously. 

“ I don’t know,” replied White, bitterly. 
“Either destroy or seize the whole plant and 
leave us to starve at our leisure. Now, I suppose 
we might as well go up to the house and tell 
mother. There’s no use doing any more work 
under the circumstances.” 

“ I don’t see why not,” objected Cabot, who 
was not accustomed to throwing up a fight before 
it was begun. “There is a possibility that the ves- 
sel may not be a warship after all, and another 
that she is not coming to this place. Even if she 
does, you don’t know that she has any warrant 
for interfering with your business. So, if I were 
you, I’d go right on with the work and keep at 


100 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


it until some one compelled me to stop. I say, 
though, speaking of warrants gives me an idea. 
All you want is three days’ delay, isn’t it? ” 

“ That is what I want most just now,” replied 
White. 

“ Well, then, why not place this property in 
the name of some friend — David Gidge, for in- 
stance — and when those men-of-war people be- 
gin to make trouble let him ask them whose fac- 
tory it is they are after. They will say yours, or 
your mother’s, of course. Then he’ll speak up 
and say in that case they’ve come to the wrong 
place, since this is the property of Mr. David 
Gidge, while their warrant only mentions that of 
Mrs. Whiteway Baldwin. It’ll be a big bluff, of 
course, and won’t work for very long, but it may 
puzzle ’em a bit and give the delay of proceed- 
ings that you require.” 

“ I believe you are right about keeping on with 
the work,” replied White, thoughtfully; “ though 
I am not so sure about the other part of your 
scheme. Anyway, I must run to the house for 
a little talk with mother, and if you’ll just set 
things going in the factory I shall be much 
obliged.” 

“All right,” agreed Cabot, “I’ll shake ’em 
up.” 

And he was as good as his word, for when, 
after an absence of more than an hour, White 


ACQUIRES A LOBSTER FACTORY. 101 


reappeared on the scene he found the factory 
in full blast, with its operatives working as they 
had never worked before, and Cabot Grant, the 
most disreputable-looking of the lot, urging them 
on by voice and example to still greater exer- 
tions. He seemed to be everywhere and doing 
everything at once. 

“ Hello, old man! We’ve got greenbacks to 
burn, and we’re a-burning ’em,” he cried cheerily 
as he paused to greet his friend, and at the same 
time dash the streaming perspiration from his 
face with a grimy hand. u What’s the news? ” 

“ The news is that you are a trump ! ” ex- 
claimed White, “ and that in spite of all you are 
doing for us we want you to grant us still another 
favour.” 

“ Hame it, my boy, and if it is anything within 
reason, including a defiance of the whole British 
navy, I’ll do it,” laughed Cabot. 

“ I hope you will, for it is something that we 
all want you to do very much,” responded White. 
“ You see it’s this way. I spoke of your sugges- 
tion to mother, and she thought so well of it that 
I went to the magistrate and got him to draw up 
a deed transferring this property, for a nominal 
consideration, to a friend. How it is all ready 
for signatures, and we want you to be that 
friend.” 

“ Me ! ” cried Cabot, completely staggered by 


102 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


this unexpected result of his own planning. 
“ You can’t mean that. Why, you don’t know 
anything about me. For all you know I might 
never give the property hack to you.” 

“ We are willing to risk that,” replied White, 
“ and would rather trust you to act for us in this 
matter than any one else we know. It is a big 
favour to ask, I know; but you said you felt in- 
debted to me and only wanted a chance to pay 
off the debt, so I thought perhaps — but if you 
don’t want to do it, of course ” 

“ But I will, if you really want me to,” cried 
Cabot. “ I have always longed to own a lobster 
factory. It never entered my head when I pro- 
posed the plan that I would help carry it out; 
but if you think I can be of the slightest assist- 
ance in that way, why of course I am only too 
glad.” 

So the papers constituting Cabot Grant, Esq., 
sole owner of the Pretty Harbour lobster factory 
were duly signed and recorded; and at sunset of 
that very evening our hero stood regarding his 
suddenly acquired property with the air of one 
Who is dubiously pleased at a prospect. 


CHAPTER XI. 


BLUFFING THE BRITISH NAVY. 

■ Cabot was not long allowed to enjoy his sense 
of possession before experiencing some of the 
anxieties of proprietorship; for, even as he stood 
overlooking his newly acquired factory, a clipper- 
built schooner, showing the fine lines and tall 
topmasts of an American, rounded the outer 
headland and entered the harbour. For a few 
minutes our young engineer, who was learning 
to appreciate the good points of a vessel, watched 
her admiringly as she glided across the basin and 
drew near the factory wharf. Then he was 
joined by White, who had been detained at the 
house, and they went down together to greet the 
new-comer. 

She proved to be the fishing schooner “ Ruth 77 
of Gloucester, and her skipper, who introduced 
himself as Cap’n Ezekiel Bland, explained that 
he had come to the coast after bait. 

“ I Towed to get it in St. George / 7 he said, 
“ but there was a pesky French frigate that 
wouldn’t allow the natives to sell us so much as 


104 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


a herring, though they had a-plenty and were 
keen to make a trade for the stuff I’ve got 
aboard.” 

“ What kind of stuff? ” asked Cabot, curiously. 

“ Flour and pork mostly. You see, I’m bound 
on a long trip, and being obliged to lay in a big 
supply of grub anyway, thought I might as well 
stow a few extra barrels to trade for bait; but 
now it looks like I couldn’t get rid of ’em unless 
I give ’em away.” 

“ There’s plenty of bait in the bay,” remarked 
White. 

“ Yes, so I’ve heard, and a plenty of frigates, 
too. The Frenchy must have suspicioned where 
I was bound, for he has followed us up sharp, and 
as we came by South Head I seen him jest a 
bilin’ along ’bout ten mile astarn, and now he’ll 
poke into every hole of the bay till he finds us. 
Anyhow, there won’t be no chance to trade long 
as he’s round, for you folks don’t dare say your 
soul’s your own when there’s a Frenchy on the 
coast.” 

“ Hor hardly at any other time,” remarked 
White, moodily. 

“ There’s another one, too — Britisher, I 
reckon — went up the bay towards Humber Arm 
ahead of us. I only wish the two tamal crit- 
ters would get into a scrap and blow each other 
out of the water. Then there’d be some chance 


BLUFFING THE BRITISH NAVY. 105 


for honest folks to make a living, blow I’m 
up a stump and don’t know what to do, unless 
some of you people can let me have a few bar- 
rels of bait right off, so’s I can clear out again 
to-night.” 

“There isn’t any to be had here,” replied 
White, “ for this is a lobster factory, and the 
whole business of the place, just at present, is 
catching and canning lobsters. You’ll find some 
round at York Harbour, though.” 

“Ho use going there now, nor anywhere else, 
long as that pesky Frenchman’s on the lookout. 
Can’t think what made him leave St. Pierre in 
such a hurry. Thought he was good to stay 
there a week longer at any rate. But say, who 
owns this factory? ” 

“ This gentleman is the proprietor,” replied 
White, indicating his companion as he spoke. 

“Hm!” ejaculated the Yankee skipper, re- 
garding Cabot with an air of interest. “ Never 
should have took you to be the owner of a New- 
foundland lobster factory. Sized you up to be 
a Yankee same as myself, and reckoned you was 
here on a visit. Seeing as you are the boss, 
though, how’d you like to trade your pack for 
my cargo — lobsters for groceries? Both of us 
might make a good thing out of it. Eh? I’ll 
take all the risks, and neither of us needn’t pay 
no duty.” 


106 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ Can’t do it,” replied Cabot promptly, u be- 
cause, in the first place, I’m not in the smuggling 
business, and in the second our whole pack is 
engaged by parties in St. Johns.” 

“ As for the smuggling part,” responded Cap- 
tain Bland, “ I wouldn’t let that worry me a little 
bit. Everybody smuggles on this coast, which 
is neither British, French, nor Newfoundland. 
So a man wouldn’t rightly know who to pay 
duties to, even if he wanted to pay ’em ever so 
bad, which most of us don’t. If you have en- 
gaged your goods to St. Johns, though, of course 
a bargain is a bargain. Same time I could afford 
to pay you twice as much as any St. Johns mer- 
chant. But it don’t matter much one way or 
another, seeing as the idea of trading was only 
an idea as you may say that just popped into my 
head. Well, so long. It’s coming on dark, and 
I must be getting aboard. See you to-morrow, 
mebbe.” 

As the Yankee skipper took his departure, 
Cabot and White turned into the factory, where 
all night long fires blazed and roared beneath the 
seething kettles. 

Until nearly noon of the following day the 
work of canning lobsters was continued without 
interruption, and pushed with all possible en- 
ergy. Then a boy, who had been posted outside 
the harbour as a lookout, came hurrying in to 


BLUFFING THE BRITISH NAVY. 107 


report that he had seen a naval launch steaming 
in that direction. 

The emergency for which Cabot had been 
planning ever since he consented to become the 
responsible head of the concern was close at 
hand, and he at once began to take measures to 
meet it. 

“ Draw your fires,” he shouted. “ Empty the 
kettles and cool them off. Pass all cans, empty 
or full, up into the loft, and then every one of 
you clear out. Remember that you are not to 
know a thing about the factory, if anybody asks 
questions, and you don’t even want to give any 
one a chance to ask questions if you can help it. 
Run up to the house,” he added, turning to the 
boy who had brought tidings of the enemy’s ap- 
proach, “ and tell Mrs. Baldwin, with my compli- 
ments, that the carriage is ready for her drive.” 

So thoroughly had everything been explained 
and understood beforehand, and so promptly 
were these orders obeyed, that, half an hour 
later, when a jaunty man-of-war’s launch, flying 
a British Jack, entered the little harbour, every 
preparation had been made for her reception. 
The factory, closed and silent, presented no out- 
ward sign that it had been in operation for 
months. Those who had recently worked so in- 
dustriously within its weather-stained walls now 
lounged about their own house doors, or on the 


108 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


village street, as though they had nothing to do, 
and limitless leisure in which to do it. White 
Baldwin, with his mother and sister, had driven 
away in a cart, leaving their tenantless house 
with closed doors and tightly shuttered windows. 
Cabot Grant, with hands thrust into his trousers 
pockets, leaned against a wharf post and surveyed 
the oncoming launch with languid curiosity. The 
Yankee schooner swung gracefully at her moor- 
ings, and from her a boat was pulling towards 
shore; while on the deck of the “ Sea Bee,” also 
anchored in the stream, David Gidge placidly 
smoked a pipe. 

The launch slowed down as it neared him, and 
an officer inquired in the crisp tones of author- 
ity: 

“ What place is this? ” 

Deliberately taking the pipe from his mouth, 
and looking about him as though to refresh his 
memory, Mr. Gidge answered: 

“ I’ve heard it called by a number of names.” 

“ Was one of them Pretty Harbour? ” 

“ Now that you mention it, I believe it were.” 

“ What kind of a building is that? ” continued 
the officer, sharply, pointing to the factory as he 
spoke. 

David gazed at the building with interest, as 
though now seeing it for the first time. 

“ Looks to me like a barn,” he said at length. 


BLUFFING THE BRITISH NAVY. 109 


“ Same time it might be a church, though I don’t 
reckon it is.” 

“ Isn’t it a lobster factory? ” 

“ They might make lobsters in it, but I don’t 
think they does. Mebbe that young man on the 
wharf could tell ye. He looks knowing.” 

Disgusted at this exhibition of stupidity, and 
muttering something about a chuckle-headed 
idiot, the officer motioned for his launch to move 
ahead, and, in another minute, it lay alongside 
the wharf. 

“ Is this the Pretty Harbour lobster factory? ” 
demanded the officer as he stepped ashore. 

“ I believe it was formerly used as a lobster 
cannery,” replied Cabot, guardedly, “but no 
business of the kind is being carried on here at 
present.” 

“ It is owned by the family of the late William 
Baldwin, is it not? ” 

“Ho, sir.” 

“ Who then does own the property? ” 

“Ido.” 

“You! ” exclaimed the officer. “And pray, 
sir, who are you? ” 

“ I am an American citizen named Grant, and 
have recently acquired this property by pur- 
chase.” 

“ Indeed. Then of course you possess papers 
showing the transfer of ownership.” 


110 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ Certainly.” 

“ I should like to look at them.” 

“ They have been sent for record to the county 
seat, where any one who chooses may examine 
them.” 

“ Where shall I find a person by the name of 
White way Baldwin? ” 

“ I can’t tell you, as he has left the place.” 

“ Is any member of his family here ? ” 

“ ]STo. All of them went with him.” 

“ Have you the keys of this factory ? ” 

“ I have.” 

“ Then I must trouble you to open it, as I wish 
to look inside.” 

As the two entered the building, and the offi- 
cer caught sight of the machinery used in can- 
ning lobsters, he said: 

“ I am very sorry, Mr. Grant, but I have orders 
to destroy everything found in this factory that 
has been, or may be, used in the canning of 
lobsters.” 

“ Those orders apply to the property of Mrs. 
William Baldwin, do they not? ” 

“ They do.” 

“ Then, sir, since she ho longer owns this build- 
ing, and I do, together with all that it contains, 
I warn you that if you destroy one penny’s worth 
of my property I shall at once bring suit for dam- 
ages against both you and your commanding of- 


BLUFFING THE BRITISH NAVY. Ill 


Acer. I can command plenty of money and a 
powerful influence at home, both of which shall 
be brought to bear on the case. If it goes against 
you my claim will be pressed by the American 
Government at the Court of St. James. More- 
over, articles concerning the outrage will be pub- 
lished in all the leading American papers. Pub- 
lic sentiment will be aroused, and you doubtless 
know as well as any one whether England, with 
all the troubles now on her hands, can afford to 
incur the ill will of the American people for the 
sake of a pitiful lobster factory. You can see 
for yourself that no illegal business — nor in fact 
business of any kind — is being carried on here 
at present, and, under the circumstances, I would 
advise you to take time for serious reflection be- 
fore you begin to destroy the property of an 
American citizen.” 

Bewildered by this unexpected aspect of the 
situation, and remembering how a suit brought 
by the proprietors of that same factory had gone 
against a former British commander who had in- 
terfered with its operations, the officer hemmed 
and hawed and made several remarks uncompli- 
mentary to Americans, but finally decided to lay 
the case before his captain. As he reentered 
his launch he said : 

“ Of course you understand, sir, that no work 
of any kind is to be done in this building between 


112 


TINDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


this and the time of my return, nor may anything 
whatever be removed from it.” 

“ I understand perfectly,” replied Cabot. Yet 
within half an hour the employees of the factory 
had returned to their tasks, fires had been re- 
lighted, kettles were boiling merrily, and the 
place again hummed with busy activity. 

“ Young feller, it was the biggest bluff I ever 
see, and it worked ! ” exclaimed Captain Ezekiel 
Bland a few minutes earlier, as he stood on the 
wharf with Cabot watching the departing launch. 


CHAPTER XII. 


ENGLAND AND FRANCE COME TO BLOWS. 

The Baldwins returned to their home shortly 
after the departure of the discomfited officer, and 
listened with intense interest to Cabot’s report 
of all that had taken place during their absence. 

“ No one but a Yankee would have thought of 
such a plan ! ” exclaimed White, “ or had the 
cheek to carry it out. But it makes me feel as 
mean as dirt to have run away and left you to 
face the music alone.” 

“ You needn’t,” replied Cabot, “ for your ab- 
sence was one of the most important things, and 
I couldn’t possibly have carried out the pro- 
gramme if you had been there. Now, though, 
we’ve got to hustle, for I expect that navy chap 
will be back again to-morrow, and whatever we 
can accomplish between now and then will prob- 
ably end the lobster-packing business so far as 
this factory is concerned.” 

That night the workers received a reinforce- 
ment, as unexpected as it was welcome, from the 
crew of the Yankee schooner, who, led by Cap- 
8 


114 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


tain Bland, came to assist their fellow country- 
man in his struggle against foreign oppression. 
With this timely and expert aid, the canning 
business was so rushed that by ten o’clock of the 
next morning, when the lookout again reported 
a launch to be approaching, every can was filled 
and the pack was completed. More than half of 
it had also been removed from the factory and 
stowed aboard the “ Sea Bee,” ready for delivery 
to the St. Johns purchaser. 

“ I wish he were here now,” said White, “ so 
that we might settle up our business with him be- 
fore those chaps arrive.” 

“ Well, he isn’t,” replied Cabot, “ and we must 
protect the goods as best we can until he comes. 
In the meantime I think you’d better disappear 
and leave me to manage alone, the same as I did 
yesterday.” 

“ No. I won’t run away again. I’m going 
to stay and face the music.” 

“ All right,” agreed Cabot. “ Perhaps it will 
be just as well, since the factory is closed sure 
enough this time. You must let me do all the 
talking, though, and perhaps in some way we’ll 
manage to scare ’em off again.” 

“ If we could have just one day more we’d be 
all right,” said White, “ but there they come. 
Only, I say! They are Frenchmen this time. 
See the flag.” 


ENGLAND AND FRANCE FIGHT. 115 


Sure enough. Instead of flying the British 
Union Jack the launch that now appeared in the 
harbour displayed the tri-colour of the French 
Republic. Thus, when Cabot and White 
reached the wharf, they were just in time to 
greet their acquaintance of St. Pierre, the lieu- 
tenant of the French frigate “ Isla,” whom 
White had so neatly outwitted in that port. As 
he stepped ashore he was accompanied by a 
sharp-featured, black-browed individual, whom 
White recognised as M. Delom, proprietor of 
a French lobster factory located on another shore 
of the bay. 

“ That chap has come for pickings and steal- 
ings/’ he remarked in a low tone. 

“ Shouldn’t wonder,” returned Cabot, “ for he 
looks like a thief.” 

“ Ah, ha, Monsieur Baldwin ! I haf catch you 
zis time, an’ you cannot now gif me what you call 
ze sleep,” cried the French lieutenant. “ Also 
I am come to siz your property, for you may no 
more can ze lob of ze Fran§aise. Behol’! I 
have ze aut’orization.” 

So saying, the officer drew forth and unfolded 
with a flourish a paper that he read aloud. It 
was an order for the confiscation and removal of 
all property owned by a person, or persons, 
named Baldwin, and used by them contrary to 
law in canning lobsters on the French territory 


116 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


of Newfoundland, and it was signed: “ Char- 
mian, Capitan de Fregate.” 

“ So, Monsieur Baldwin,” continued the offi- 
cer, when he had finished the reading, “ you will 
gif to me ze key of your factory zat I may from 
it remof ze materiel. I sail also take your 
schooner for to convey it to ze factory of M. 
Delom. Is it plain, ma intention? ” 

“ Your intention is only too plain/’ responded 
White. “ You are come to aid that thief in 
stealing my property; but you are too late, for 
the factory no longer belongs to the Baldwin 
family.” 

“ Ah ! Is it so ? Who zen belong to it ? ” 

“ This gentleman is the present owner,” re- 
plied White, “ and you must arrange your busi- 
ness with him.” 

“ Who is he? ” demanded the Frenchman, sur- 
veying Cabot contemptuously from head to foot. 
“ But I do not care. Ze material mus all ze same 
be remof.” 

“ I am an American citizen,” interrupted 
Cabot, “ and I forbid you to touch my property. 
If you do so I shall claim damages through the 
American government, and in the meantime I 
shall call on the British frigate now in this bay 
for protection.” 

“For ze Americains I do not care,” cried the 
Frenchman, assuming a theatrical attitude. 


ENGLAND AND FRANCE FIGHT. 117 


“ For F Anglais, pouf! I also care not. When it 
is my duty I do him. Ze material mus be remof. 
Allons, mes gargons.” 

A dozen French bluejackets, armed with cut- 
lasses and pistols, had gathered behind their 
leader, and now these sprang forward with a 
shout, clearing a way through the collected 
throng of villagers. Advancing upon the main 
entrance to the factory, they quickly battered 
down its door and rushed inside. With them went 
swarthy-faced Delom, who gloated over the spoil 
that now seemed within his grasp, and which 
would make his own factory the best equipped 
on the coast. He was especially pleased to note 
the pack all boxed ready for shipment, and our 
lads saw him direct the officer’s attention to it. 
As a result the latter gave an order, and in an- 
other minute a file of French bluejackets, each 
with a case of canned lobster on his shoulder, 
was marching towards the door. 

Just as they reached it there came a shout and 
a tramp of heavy feet from the outside. Then 
a stem voice cried : 

“ Halt! What are you doing here, you French 
beggars? Drop those boxes and clear out.” 

As the Frenchmen halted irresolute, their of- 
ficer, who could not see what was going on, but 
imagined that some of the villagers were block- 
ing the entrance, shouted for them to march on 


118 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


and clear away the canaille who dared oppose 
them. 

The French bluejackets attempted to obey, 
but, with their first forward movement, they 
were met by an inrush of sturdy British sailors, 
who sent them and their burdens crashing to the 
floor in every direction. Some of them as they 
regained their feet drew their cutlasses, while 
others fell upon the new-comers with their fists. 
A pistol shot rang out, and a British sailor pitched 
heavily forward. At the same instant both 
officers sprang into the melee, beating back 
their men with the flat of their swords, and 
fiercely ordering them to desist from further 
fighting. 

So sharp had been the brief encounter between 
these hereditary enemies, that as they sullenly 
withdrew their clutch from each other’s throats 
a British sailor remained on the floor striving to 
staunch the blood that spurted from a bullet 
wound in his leg, while near at hand lay a French 
bluejacket, as white and motionless as though 
dead. Another Frenchman had a broken arm, 
while several others on both sides looked askance 
at their enemies from blackened eyes and swollen 
faces. 

“ Sir! ” cried the French lieutenant, the mo- 
ment order was so far restored that he could 
make himself heard, “ I am bidden by my com- 






OTHERS FELL ON THE NEW-COMERS WITH THEIR FISTS. 































ENGLAND AND FRANCE FIGHT . 121 


mandant, ze Chevalier Charmian, capitan de 
frigate i Isla/ to remof all material from zis 
building, and in his name I protest against zis 
mos outrage interference.” 

“ Sir,” answered the British officer, “ I am 
ordered by my captain to destroy all property 
contained in this building, and not permit the 
removal of a single article.” 

“ But I will not allow it destroyed!” 

“ And I will not allow it removed.” 

For a moment the two glared at each other in 
speechless rage. Then the Frenchman said: 

“ As humanity compels me to gif immediate 
attention to my men, wounded by ze unprovoked 
assault of your barbarians, I sail at once carry 
zem to my sheep, where I sail immediately also 
report zis outrage to my commandant.” 

“Same here,” replied the Englishman, laconic- 
ally, and with this both officers ordered their men 
to fall back to the launches, carrying with them 
their wounded comrades. 

During the progress of this thrilling episode 
our two lads had watched it in breathless excite- 
ment without once thinking of leaving the build- 
ing, though a back door opened close at hand. 
So intent were they upon what was taking place 
that they did not notice the approach of a third 
person until he was close beside them and had 
addressed White by name. He was the St. J ohns 


122 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


travelling man, who had engaged the Baldwin 
pack for his firm, and now he said in low, hur- 
ried tones : 

“ You fellows want to skip out of this while 
you can, for that British officer has got orders to 
arrest you both and carry you to St. Johns for 
trial. Charges — contempt of court and carrying- 
on an illegal business. Awfully sorry I can’t 
take your goods, but order has been issued that 
any one handling them will also be arrested and 
subject to heavy fine. Hurry up. They are 
making a move, and he’ll be looking for you di- 
rectly. Don’t let on that I gave you the tip.” 

With this the man moved away, and without 
exchanging a word our lads slipped out of the 
nearby door. 

So fully was the British officer occupied in 
getting his men back to their launch without 
making another attack upon their hated rivals, 
that not until all were safely on board did he 
remember that he had been charged to bring 
off two prisoners. How he was in a quandary. 
Those whom he desired were nowhere to be seen, 
and he dared not leave his men, whose fighting 
blood was still at fever heat, long enough to go 
in search of them. Also the French launch was 
about to depart, and it would never do for the 
captain of the “ Isla ” to be informed of the re- 
cent unfortunate encounter in advance of his 


ENGLAND AND FRANCE FIGHT. 123 


own commander. So, with a last futile look 
ashore, he reluctantly gave the order to shove off, 
and side by side, their crews screaming taunts at 
each other, the two launches raced out of the 
harbour. 

As Cabot and White watched them from a 
place of snug concealment, the latter heaved a 
sigh of relief, saying: 

“ Well, Fm mighty glad they’re gone, and 
haven’t got us with them; but I do wish that fight 
could have lasted a few minutes longer.” 

“ Wasn’t it lovely!” retorted Cabot, “and 
isn’t the lobster industry on this coast just about 
the most exciting business in the world! ” 


CHAPTER XIII. 


A PRISONER OF WAR. 

With the disappearance of the launches our 
lads realised that it was time to make new plans 
for immediate action. So, as they walked slowly 
back towards the village, they earnestly discussed 
the situation. 

“ It is too bad that I have drawn you into such 
a scrape,” said White, “ and the very first thing 
for me to do is to make an effort to get you out of 
it. So, if you like, I will drive you over to the 
station this afternoon, where you can take the 
morning train for St. Johns.” 

“ Ho,” replied Cabot, “ that wouldn’t do at all. 
In the first place, you didn’t draw me into the 
scrape. I went into it with my eyes open, and 
am quite ready to stand by what I have done. 
In fact I rather enjoy it than otherwise. At the 
same time I do not propose to be arrested if I 
can help it, and for that reason do not care to 
visit St. Johns at present. Even at the railway 
station we should be very likely to meet and be 
recognised by some of our recent unpleasant 


A PRISONER OF WAR . 


125 


naval acquaintances. Besides, I am going to see 
this thing through, and shall stand by you just 
as long as I can be of any service, for I hope you 
don’t think so meanly of me as to imagine that I 
would desert in the time of his trouble the fellow 
who saved my life.” 

“ I never for one moment thought meanly of 
you,” declared White, “ and I know that in rescu- 
ing you from that raft I also gained for myself 
one of the best friends I ever had. Bor that very 
reason, though, I don’t want to abuse your 
friendship.” 

“ All right,” laughed Cabot. “ Whenever I 
feel abused I’ll let you know. And now, it being 
settled that we are to fight this thing out together, 
what do you propose to do with the pack we have 
worked so hard to make? ” 

“ I don’t know,” replied White, despondently; 
“ but, as it is legally your property, I think you 
ought to decide what is to be done with it.” 

“Nonsense! ” retorted Cabot. “It no more 
really belongs to me than it does to that black- 
faced Frenchman. At the same time I’d fight 
rather than let him have it.” 

“ I’d toss every case into the sea first,” cried 
White, “ and everything the factory contains be- 
sides.” 

“ ‘ Same here,’ as the Englishman said; but I 
guess we can do better than that. Why not ac- 


126 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


cept Captain Bland’s offer, and trade it to him 
for groceries? ” 

“ I thought you were opposed to receiving 
smuggled goods? ” 

“ So I am on general principles,” admitted 
Cabot, “ but circumstances alter cases. I con- 
sider the highway robbery that two of the most 
powerful nations of the world are attempting 
right here a circumstance strong enough to alter 
any case. So I would advise you to accept the 
only offer now remaining open. You will at 
least get enough groceries to keep your family 
supplied for a year.” 

“ I should say so, and for two years more, pro- 
vided the goods didn’t spoil.” 

“ Then you might sell what you couldn’t use.” 

“Where?” asked White. “Not in New- 
foundland, for they would be seized as contra- 
band in any part of the island. Besides, you 
seem to forget that as both of us are liable to 
arrest, we are hardly in a position to go into the 
grocery business just at present.” 

“ That’s so. Well, then, why not carry them 
somewhere else in the ‘ Sea Bee ’ ? To Canada, 
or — I have it! You said something once about 
making a trading trip to Labrador, and now is 
the very opportunity. Why shouldn’t we take 
the goods to Labrador? I don’t believe we’d be 
arrested in that country, even for smuggling, 


A PRISONER OF WAR. 


127 


and they must need a lot of provisions up there. 
It’s the very thing, and the sooner we can ar- 
range to be off the better.” 

“ But you don’t want to go to Labrador,” pro- 
tested White. 

“ Don’t I ? There’s where you make a big 
mistake; for I do want to go to Labrador more 
than to any other place I know of. Also I would 
rather go there with you in the ‘ Sea Bee ’ than 
in any other company, or by any other convey- 
ance. So there you are, and if you don’t invite 
me to start for Labrador before that brass-bound 
navy chap has a chance to arrest me, I shall 
consider myself a victim of misplaced confi- 
dence.” 

“ I do believe you have hit upon the very best 
way out of our troubles,” said White, thought- 
fully. “ If I could arrange to leave mother, and 
if the Yankee captain would make a part pay- 
ment in cash, so that she and Cola could get along 
until my return, I believe I would go.” 

“ You can leave your mother and sister now 
as well as when you went to St. Johns, and bet- 
ter, for I am sure David Gidge would look out 
for them during the month or so that we’ll be 
away.” 

“ But David would have to go along to help 
work the schooner.” 

“ I don’t see why. You and I could manage 


128 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


without him, and so save his wages, or his share 
of the voyage, which would amount to the same 
thing. If one man can sail a 30-foot boat 
around the world alone, as Captain Slocum did, 
two of us certainly ought to be able to take a 50- 
foot schooner up to Labrador and back. Any 
way I’m game to try it, if you are, and I’d a heap 
rather risk it than stay here to be arrested. There 
is Captain Bland now. Let’s go and talk with 
him.” 

The Yankee skipper stood near the shattered 
door of the factory in company with a number 
of villagers, all of whom seemed greatly inter- 
ested in something going on inside. As our lads 
drew near these made way for them, and Captain 
Bland said: 

“ ’Pears like the new owner is making himself 
perfectly at home.” 

Inside the factory the Frenchman Delom, who 
had remained behind to make good his claim to 
the confiscated property of his rival, was too bus- 
ily at work to pay any attention to the disparag- 
ing remarks and muttered threats of those whom 
he had forbidden to enter. He had collected all 
the tools and lighter machinery into a pile ready 
for removal, and was now marking with his own 
stencil such of the filled cases as remained on the 
lower floor. 

So dreaded was the power of France on that 



LIVID WITH RAGE, THE FRENCHMAN WHIPPED OUT AN UGLY-LOOKING 

KNIFE. 





































































































































































































































A PRISONER OF WAR. 


131 


English coast that up to that moment no one had 
dared interfere with him, but Cabot Grant was 
not troubled by a fear of France or any other 
nation, and, as he realised what was going on, he 
sprang into the building. The next instant our 
young football player had that Frenchman by 
the collar and was rushing him towards the door- 
way. From it he projected him so violently that 
the man measured his length on the ground a full 
rod beyond it. 

Livid with rage at this assault, the Frenchman 
scrambled to his feet, whipped out an ugly-look- 
ing knife, and started towards Cabot with mur- 
derous intent. 

“ No you don’t,” shouted Captain Bland, and 
in another moment Monsieur Delom’s arms were 
pinioned behind him, while he struggled help- 
lessly in the iron grasp of the Yankee skipper. 

“ I think we’d better tie him,” remarked the 
latter quietly. “ ’Tain’t safe to let a varmint 
like this loose on any community.” 

White produced a rope and was stepping for- 
ward with it, but Cabot took it from him, saying: 
“ For the sake of your family you mustn’t have 
anything to do with this affair.” So he and Cap- 
tain Bland bound the Frenchman hand and foot, 
took away his knife, and carried him for present 
safe keeping to a small, dark building that was 
used for the storage of fish oil. Here they locked 


132 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


him in, and left him to meditate at leisure on the 
fate of those who have done to them, what they 
would do to others if they could. 

“ Well,” said Captain Bland, at the conclusion 
of this incident, “ you young fellers always seem 
to have something interesting on hand; what are 
you going to do next? Are you going to skin 
out, or wait for the return of the French and Eng- 
lish fleets? I’d like to know, ’cause I want to be 
getting a move on; but if there’s going to be 
any more fun I expect I’ll have to wait and take 
it in.” 

“ I expect our next move depends very largely 
on you, captain,” replied White. “ Are you still 
willing to trade your cargo for our pack? ” 

“ I might be, and then again I mightn’t,” an- 
swered the Yankee, as he meditatively chewed a 
blade of grass. “ You see, the risk of the thing 
has been so increased during the past two days 
that I couldn’t make nigh so good an offer now 
as I could at first. Also, here’s so many claim- 
ing the pack of this factory that I’m in consider- 
able doubt as to who is the rightful owner. First 
there’s the Baldwin interest and the American 
interest, represented by you two chaps. Then 
there’s the St. Johns interest, represented by that 
travelling man; the British interest, which is a 
mighty powerful one, seeing that it is supported 
by the English navy; the French government 


A PRISONER OF WAR. 


133 


interest, which is likewise backed up by a fleet 
of warships, and the French factory interest, 
represented by our friend in limbo, who, though 
he isn’t saying much just now, seems to have a 
pretty strong political pull. So, on the whole, 
the ownership appears to be muddled, and the 
pack itself subject to a good many conflicting 
claims. I expect also that the factory workmen 
and the lobster catchers have some sort of a lien 
on it for services rendered.” 

“ Look here, Captain Bland,” said Cabot, “ we 
understand perfectly that all you have just said 
is trade talk, made to depreciate the value of our 
goods, and you know as well as I do that they 
have but one rightful owner.” 

“ Who is that? ” asked the skipper with an air 
of interest. 

“ Mrs. William Baldwin.” 

“But I thought she deeded the property to you.” 

“ So she did; but as I am not yet of age that 
deed is worth no more than the paper on which 
it is written.” 

“ You don’t mean it. What a whopping big 
bluff it was then! ” cried Captain Bland, admir- 
ingly. “ Beats any I ever heard of, and I’m 
proud to know ’twas a Yankee that worked it. 
What you say does alter the situation consider- 
able, and I’d like to have Miss Baldwin’s own 
views on the subject of a trade.” 


134 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


In accordance with this wish an adjournment 
was made to the house, where Mrs. Baldwin as- 
sured the Yankee skipper of her willingness to 
abide by any agreement made with him by her 
son and Mr. Grant. 

“ Which so simplifies matters, ma’am,” replied 
the captain, “ that I think we may consider a 
trade as already effected, and make hold to say 
that this season’s pack of the Pretty Harbour 
lobster factory will be sold somewhere’s else 
besides Newfoundland.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE “ SEA BEE ” UNDER FIRE. 

The arrangement made with the Yankee 
skipper was satisfactory, save in one respect. 
He was willing to trade provisions for canned 
lobsters to the extent of taking the entire pack, 
and he also offered to remove the machinery 
outfit of the factory on the chance of finding a 
purchaser for it in the States, but he refused to 
make any cash advance on the goods. 

“ Pm willing,” he said, “ to risk considerable 
for the sake of being accommodating, and with 
the hope of making a little something, but I can’t 
afford to risk cold cash.” 

“ I don’t see how we can make a trade, then,” 
remarked White, as he and Cabot discussed the 
situation. "It will take every penny I’ve got 
to pay off the hands, and though I believe we 
could make a good thing out of a Labrador trip, 
I can’t leave mother and Cola without a cent 
while I’m aw T ay. If he would only let me have 
fifty dollars ” 

“ He won’t, though,” interrupted Cabot, “ but 


136 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


I will. I have got just that amount of money 
with me, and, as I shan’t have any use for it in 
Labrador, I should be more than pleased to leave 
it here for safe keeping.” 

White at first refused to take his friend’s 
money; but on Cabot’s declaring that he had 
plenty more on deposit in St. Johns, he grate- 
fully accepted the loan, which he promised to 
repay from the very first sale of goods they 
should make. 

Everything being thus arranged, preparations 
for departure were pushed with all speed. Such 
of the pack as remained in the factory was hur- 
ried aboard the “ Ruth ” by a score of willing 
workers, who also transferred to her every tool 
and bit of machinery, including the big kettles. 
Then she and the “ Sea Bee,” the latter manned 
by two of the Yankee sailors, with David Gidge 
as pilot, sailed from the harbour, and were lost 
to sight beyond its protecting headland. 

The next hour was spent in settling with the 
lobster catchers and those who had been em- 
ployed in the factory, each of whom was warned 
to give no information concerning the move- 
ments of the two schooners. This was barely 
finished when the boy who had been posted out- 
side immediately after the departure of the 
naval launches came hurrying in with news that 
both of them were returning. 


THE “SEA BEE ” UNDER FIRE. 137 


“ My! ” cried Cabot, “ but Td like to see the 
fun when they get here.” 

“ I am afraid you’d see more than enough of 
it,” replied White, “ for they’ll be keen on get- 
ting us this time. So we’d best be starting. 
Hold on a minute, though; I want to leave proof 
behind that we haven’t gone off with either of 
the schooners.” 

With this he ran down to the oil house, in 
which their well-nigh forgotten prisoner was still 
confined. Flinging open the door, he said, in a 
tone of well-feigned regret: 

“ It is too bad, Monsieur Delom, that you 
should have been kept so long in this wretched 
place, but I dared not attempt your release while 
those terrible Yankees were here. How, how- 
ever, they are gone and you are once more free. 
Also, as I realise that I can no longer maintain 
my factory here, you are at liberty to make what 
use you please of its contents. Accept my con- 
gratulations on your good fortune, monsieur. As 
for me, I must now leave you to prepare for my 
journey to St. Johns.” 

With this White bade the bewildered French- 
man a mocking adieu, and left him still blinking 
at the sunlight from which he had been so long 
secluded. 

A few minutes later the Baldwin house again 
stood closed and tenantless, while a cart driven 


138 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


by Cola, and accompanied by the two young 
men on foot, climbed the hill back of the village 
by a road leading to the nearest railway station. 
Monsieur Delom witnessed this departure, as did 
many others, but no one saw the cart leave the 
highway a little later and turn into a dim trail 
leading through an otherwise pathless forest. 
After a time it emerged from this on another 
road and came to a farmhouse to which Mrs. 
Baldwin had previously been taken. Here 
mother and son bade each other farewell, while 
the former also prayed for a blessing upon the 
stranger who had so befriended them, and whose 
fortunes had become so curiously linked with 
theirs. Then the cart with Cola still acting as 
driver rattled away, and was quickly lost to sight. 

It lacked but an hour of sunset when our refu- 
gees reached a pocket on the outer coast, in 
which the two schooners lay snugly, side by side, 
nearly filling the tiny harbour. On the beach 
David Gidge already waited, and, as the lads 
transferred their few effects to the boat that had 
brought him ashore, he climbed stiffly into the 
cart which Cola was to guide back over the way 
it had just come. 

“ Good-bye, Cola,” said Cabot, as he held for 
a moment the hand of the girl he had come to 
regard almost as a sister. “ Try and have a lot 
of specimens ready for me when we come back.” 


THE “SEA BEE ” UNDER FIRE. 139 


“ Good-bye, sister! ” cried White. “ Take care 
of mother, and don’t let her worry about us. 
We’ll be back almost before you have time to 
miss us. Good-bye, David ! I trust you to look 
out for them because you have promised.” 

“ Oh ! how I wish I were a boy and going with 
you,” exclaimed Cola. “It is so stupid to be 
left behind with nothing to do but just wait. 
Do please hurry back.” 

“ All right,” replied her brother. “ With 
good luck we’ll sail into Pretty Harbour inside 
of a month, and perhaps with money enough to 
take us all to the States.” 

“ Oh, wouldn’t that be splendid! Do get 
started, for the sooner you are off the quicker 
you’ll come back,” cried the girl. 

“ That’s so. Come on, Cabot,” and in an- 
other minute the boat had shot out from the 
beach, while the cart was slowly climbing the 
rugged trail that led inland. 

On reaching the schooners our lads found 
Captain Bland impatiently awaiting them, 
since the transfer of goods was nearly com- 
pleted, and he was anxious to get his compromis- 
ing cargo away from the coast patrolled by those 
meddlesome frigates. 

“ Let me once get beyond the three-mile 
limit,” he said, “ and I wouldn’t mind meeting 
a fleet of ’em; if either one of ’em caught me in 


140 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


here, though, I’d not only stand to lose cargo, but 
schooner as well. So I reckon we’d best get a 
move on at once, and talk business while we tow 
out.” 

As our lads were equally desirous of gaining 
a safe distance from the authorities they had so 
openly defied, they readily agreed to Captain 
Bland’s proposal, and four dories, each manned 
by a couple of stalwart Yankee fishermen, were 
ordered to tow the schooners from their snug hid- 
ing place. While this was going on, and White 
was busily engaged on the deck of the “ Sea 
Bee,” Cabot and Captain Bland were examining 
invoices and price lists in her cabin. 

“ Here’s a list of all I’ve put aboard,” said the 
latter, “ and you’ll see I’ve only made a small 
freight charge over and above the cost price in 
Boston. Same time I’ve allowed for your pack 
the full market price on canned lobsters accord- 
ing to latest St. Johns quotations, and you ought 
not to sell a single barrel at less ’n one hundred 
per cent, clear profit. As for the kettles and 
tools, here’s an order on my owners in Gloucester 
for them, or what they’ll fetch less a freight 
charge, provided I get ’em there all right; but 
I want both you and young Baldwin to sign this 
release that frees me from all claims for loss of 
property in case anything happens to ’em.” 

"I am perfectly willing to sign it,” replied 


THE “ SEA BEE ” UNDER FIRE. 141 


Cabot, “ because I have no ownership in the 
property, but I shouldn’t think Baldwin would 
care to give such a release.” 

“ I guess he will, though,” said the skipper. 

And he was right, for White readily consented 
to sign the paper, saying that the property would 
have been lost anyhow if it had been left behind. 
“ I have also full faith that Captain Bland will 
do the right thing about it,” he added, “ for, 
while I have always found you Yankees sharp 
as knives in a trade, I have yet to meet one whom 
I wouldn’t trust.” 

“ Thank you, Mr. Baldwin,” said the skipper, 
“ and I shall try my best not to be the first to 
abuse your confidence.” 

So the paper was signed, and White had 
barely laid down his pen when the occupants of 
the cabin were startled by a loud cry from above, 
followed almost immediately by a distant shot. 
Hurrying on deck they found that the schooner 
had reached open water and was beginning to 
feel the influence of an offshore breeze. At 
the same time the man whom White had left at 
the tiller was pointing up the coast, where they 
caught sight of a steam launch that had just 
cleared South Head. 

“ He fired a shot at us,” announced the steers- 
man. 

“ That’s all right ’long’s he didn’t hit us,” re- 


142 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


plied Captain Bland. “ It is our French friend, 
and he only took that way of hinting that he 
wished us to wait for him. I don’t think we can 
afford the time just now, though — leastways, I 
can’t. Hello there in boats! Drop your tow 
lines and come alongside.” 

“ Do you think there is any chance of our get- 
ting away from him? ” asked Cabot. 

“ Dunno. Mebbe, if the breeze freshens, as 
I believe it will. Anyhow, I’m going to give 
him a race for his money. Good-bye! Good 
luck, and I hope we’ll meet again before long.” 

So saying Captain Bland, taking the steersman 
with him, stepped into a dory that had come 
alongside and was rowed towards his own 
schooner. He had hardly gained her deck be- 
fore she set main and jib topsails and a big main 
staysail. Our lads also sprang to their own sails, 
and spread to the freshening breeze every stitch 
of canvas that the “ Sea Bee ” possessed. When 
they next found time to look at the “ Buth,” 
White uttered an exclamation of astonishment, 
for she had already gained a good half mile on 
them and was moving with the speed of a steam 
yacht. 

“ There’s no chance of the Yankee being 
caught,” he said enviously, “ but there’s a mighty 
big one that we will.” 

Although the “Sea Bee ” was holding a course 


THE “ SEA BEE” UNDER FIRE. 143 


in the wake of the “ Ruth,” and was heeled 
handsomely over before the same freshening 
breeze, she was not doing so well by a half, and 
it was evident that in a long run the launch must 
overtake her. 

“ She is certainly gaining on us,” said Cabot, 
after a long look, and he had hardly spoken be- 
fore a second shot from the launch plumped a 
ball into the water abreast of the little schooner 
and not two rods away. 

White, who was at the tiller, glanced ner- 
vously backward. “ Do you want to heavo to 
and let them overhaul us? ” he asked. 

“ Certainly not,” replied Cabot promptly. 
“ They have no right to meddle with us out here, 
and I would keep straight on without paying the 
slightest attention to them until they either sink 
us or get alongside.” 

“ All right,” laughed the other. “ I only 
wanted to make sure how you felt. Some fel- 
lows, you know, don’t like to have cannon balls 
fired at them.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


OFF FOE LABEADOE. 

Slowly but surely tlie launch gained on the 
flying schooner, until, as the sun was sinking 
behind its western horizon of water, she fired a 
shot that passed through the “ Sea Bee’s ” main- 
sail and fell a hundred yards beyond her. 

“ Wh-e-e-w ! ” exclaimed White, as he glanced 
up at the clean-cut hole. “ That’s rather too 
close for comfort, and I shouldn’t be surprised 
if the next one made splinters fly. However, it 
will soon be dark, and then, if we are not dis- 
abled, we may be able to give them the slip.” 

“ I don’t believe there’s going to be another 
shot,” cried Cabot, who was gazing eagerly 
astern. “ No — yes — hurrah! They are turn- 
ing back. They have given it up, old man, and 
we are safe. Bully for us ! I wonder what pos- 
sesses them to do such a thing, though, when they 
had so nearly caught us? ” 

“ Can’t imagine,” replied White, who was also 
staring at the launch, which certainly had circled 
back and was making towards the place whence 


OFF FOR LABRADOR. 


145 


she had come. “ They are afraid to be caught 
out at sea after dark perhaps. I always under- 
stood that Frenchmen made mighty poor sailors. 
Lucky thing for us she wasn’t a British launch, 
for they’d have kept on around the world but 
what they’d had us.” 

In justice to the Frenchmen it should be said 
that their reason for turning hack, which our 
lads did not learn until long afterwards, was the 
imminent exhaustion of their coal supply, which, 
not calculated for a long cruise, would barely 
serve to carry them back to the Bay of Islands. 

By the time the launch was lost to sight in the 
growing dusk the “ Ruth ” had also disappeared. 
She was headed southward when last seen, and 
now White said it was time that they, too, were 
turning towards their ultimate destination. So, 
topsails and mainstaysail were taken in, and the 
helm was put down until fore and mainsails jibed 
over. Then sheets were trimmed until the little 
schooner, with lee rail awash, was running some- 
thing east of north, on an easy bowline, carrying 
a bone in her teeth and leaving a bubbling wake 
trailing far astern. With everything thus satis- 
factorily in shape, White lighted the binnacle 
lamp, and giving Cabot a course to steer, went 
below to prepare the first meal of their long 
cruise. “ You must keep a sharp lookout,” he 
said as he disappeared down the companionway, 
10 


146 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ for I don’t dare show any lights. So if we are 
run into we’ll have only ourselves to blame.” 

Left thus to his own devices, Cabot realised 
for the first time the responsibility of his position 
and began to reflect seriously upon what he had 
done. Until this time one disturbing event had 
followed another so rapidly that he had been 
borne along almost without a thought of what he 
was doing or of the consequences. As a result, 
instead of carrying out the purpose for which he 
had been sent to Newfoundland, and studying 
its mineral resources, he now found himself 
forced into flight for having defied the authori- 
ties of the island, embarked upon a doubtful 
trading venture into one of the wildest and least 
known portions of the continent, and, with but 
a slight knowledge of seamanship, engaged in 
navigating a small sailing vessel across one of its 
stormiest seas. What would his guardian and 
employer say could he know all this and see him 
at the present moment? 

“ I wish he could, though,” exclaimed Cabot 
half aloud, “ for it would be fun to watch his 
look of amazement and hear his remarks. I sup- 
pose he is wondering what has become of that 
Bell Island report I was to send in the first thing, 
and I guess he’ll have to wonder for some time 
longer, as St. Johns is about the last place I feel 
like visiting just at present. I certainly have 


OFF FOR LABRADOR. 


147 


made a mess of my affairs, though, so far, and it 
looks as if I had only just begun, too. At the 
same time I don’t see how I could have acted dif- 
ferently. I tried hard enough to reach St. 
Johns, and would have got there all right if it 
hadn’t been for this factory business. But w T hen 
the fellow who saved my life got into trouble, 
from which I could help him out, I’m sure even 
Mr. Hepburn would say I was. bound to do it. 
Besides, I have found one promising outcrop 
of copper, and now I’m off for Labrador; so 
perhaps things will turn out all right after all. 
Anyway I’m learning how to sail a boat, and 
that is something every fellow ought to know. 
I wish it wasn’t so awfully dark though, and that 
White would hurry up with that supper, for I 
am powerful hungry. How good it smells, and 
what a fine chap he is. Falling in with him was 
certainly a great bit of luck. But how this con- 
founded compass wabbles, and how the schooner 
jumps off her course if I lift my eyes from it for 
a single instant. I don’t see why she can’t go 
straight if I hold the tiller perfectly still. 
There’s a star dead ahead, and I guess I’ll steer 
by it. Then I can keep the sharp lookout White 
spoke of at the same time.” 

Thus deciding, the anxious helmsman fixed his 
gaze upon the newly risen star that he had just 
discovered, and wondered admiringly at its rapid 


148 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


increase in brilliancy. After a little he rubbed 
his eyes and looked again at two more stars that 
had suddenly appeared above the horizon di- 
rectly below the first one. 

“ Never saw red and green stars before,” Ca- 
bot muttered. “ Must be peculiar to this high 
latitude. Wonder if they can be stars, though? 
Oh ! what a chump I am. White ! I say, White, 
come up here quick! ” 

In obedience to this summons the young skip- 
per thrust his head from the companionway. 

“ What’s up? ” he asked. 

“ Don’t know exactly,” replied Cabot, “ but 
there is a lighthouse or a dock or something right 
in front of us.” 

“ Steamer! ” cried White as he sprang on deck 
and glanced ahead. “Keep her away, quick. 
I don’t want them to sight us.” 

“ Steamer,” repeated Cabot as he obeyed this 
order and let the schooner fall off to leeward. “ I 
never thought of such a thing as a steamer away 
up here. Do you mean that she is a frigate? ” 

“ No,” laughed White. “ There are other 
steamers besides frigates even in these waters, 
and that is one of them. She is the ‘ Harlaw,’ 
from Flower Cove, near the northern end of the 
island, and bound for Halifax. It’s mighty 
lucky she didn’t pass us by daylight.” 


OFF FOR LABRADOR. 


149 


“ Because she is already heading in for the 
Bay of Islands and would have reported us as 
soon as she got there. Then we would have had 
a frigate after us sure enough.” 

“But how do you know she’s a steamer? 
Mightn’t she be a sailing vessel? ” 

“ Hot with that white light at her foremast 
head. Sailing vessels aren’t allowed to show any 
above their side lights. How go below and eat 
your supper while I take her.” 

This eating alone was such an unpleasant fea- 
ture of the cruise that, as Cabot sat down to his 
solitary meal, he regretted having persuaded 
White to leave David Gidge behind. 

“ I am afraid this going to sea shorthanded 
will prove a false economy after all,” he said to 
himself, thereby reaching a conclusion that has 
been forced upon seafaring men since ships first 
sailed the ocean. 

Finishing his supper as quickly as possible, 
Cabot rejoined his companion, and begged him 
also to hurry that they might bear each other 
company on deck. 

“ All right,” agreed White, “ only, of course, 
I shall be longer than you were, for I have to 
wash and put away the dishes.” 

“ Oh, bother the dishes ! ” exclaimed Cabot. 
“ Let them go till morning.” 

“Hot much. We haven’t any too many 


150 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


dishes as it is, nor a chance of getting any more, 
and if I should leave them where they are we 
probably wouldn’t have any by morning. Be- 
sides, it wouldn’t be tidy, and an untidy ship is 
worse than an untidy house, because you can’t 
get away from it. But I won’t be long.” 

True to his promise, White, bringing with 
him a heavy oilskin coat and an armful of blank- 
ets, speedily rejoined his comrade, who was by 
this time shivering in the chill night air. 

“ Put this on,” said the young skipper, tender- 
ing Cabot the oilskin, “ and then I am going to 
ask you to stand first watch. I will roll up in 
these blankets and sleep here on deck, so that 
you can get me up at a moment’s notice. You 
want to wake me at midnight, anyhow, when I 
will take the morning watch.” 

“ Very well,” agreed Cabot resignedly. “I 
suppose you know what is best to be done, but it 
seems to me that we are arranging for a very 
lonesome cruise on regular Box and Cox lines.” 

As White had no knowledge of Box and Cox 
he did not reply to this grumble, but, rolling up 
in his blankets until he resembled a huge cocoon, 
almost instantly dropped asleep. 

During the next four hours Cabot, shivering 
with cold and aching with weariness, but never 
once allowing his tired eyes to close, remained at 
his post. Through the black night, and over the 


OFF FOR LABRADOR. 


151 


still darker waters, lie guided the flying schooner 
according to the advice of the unstable compass 
card that formed the only spot of light within 
his whole range of vision. At the same time, 
knowing how little of skill he possessed in this 
new line of business, and not yet having a sailor’s 
confidence in the craft that bore him, he was 
filled with such a fear of the night, the wind, the 
leaping waters, and a thousand imaginary dan- 
gers that his hardest struggle was against an 
ever-present impulse to arouse his sleeping com- 
rade. But he would not yield, and finally had 
the satisfaction of coming unaided to the end of 
his watch. 

“ Midnight, and all hands on deck,” he 
shouted, and White, springing up, asked: 

“ What’s happened? Anything gone wrong? ” 

“ Nothing yet,” replied Cabot, “but some- 
thing will happen if you leave me at this 
wretched tiller a minute longer.” 

“ I won’t,” laughed the other. “ It will only 
take me half a minute to get an eye-opener in 
shape of a cup of cold tea, and then you can 
turn in.” 

When Cabot was at length free to seek his 
bunk he turned in all standing, only kicking off 
his boots. The very next thing of which he was 
conscious was being shaken and told that break- 
fast was ready. 


152 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


It was broad daylight; the sun was shining; 
the breeze had so moderated that White had 
been able to leave the schooner to herself with a 
lashed helm while he prepared breakfast, and as 
Cabot tumbled out he wondered if he had really 
been anxious and fearful a few hours earlier. 

All that day and through the following night 
our lads kept watch and watch while the “ Sea 
Bee ” travelled up the coast. Early on the 
second morning they passed Flower Cove, and 
from this point White headed directly across the 
Strait of Belle Isle, which, here, is but a dozen 
miles in width. Then, as Newfoundland grew 
dim behind them, a new coast backed by a range 
of lofty hills came into view ahead; and, in an- 
swer to Cabot’s eager question, White said : 

“ Yes, that is Labrador, and those are the Bra- 
dore Hills back of Forteau.” 


CHAPTEK XVI. 


MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH. 

While Cabot gazed eagerly at the lofty but 
still distant coast towards which all their hopes 
were now directed, his companion was casting 
anxious glances to the eastward, where a low 
hanging bank of cloud betokened an advancing 
fog. He had good reason to be apprehensive, 
for this northern entrance to the gulf of St. 
Lawrence forms the shortest route for steamers 
plying between Canadian and European ports. 
Consequently many of them use it during the 
brief summer season when it is free from ice. 
At the same time it is a stormy stretch of water, 
tormented by powerful currents, and generally 
shrouded in fog. 

Early in the season countless icebergs, borne 
southward by the Arctic current that hugs the 
Labrador coast, drift aimlessly over its troubled 
surface, and even at midsummer it is a passage 
to be dreaded. White, being familiar with its 
many dangers, had good cause for anxiety, as he 
saw one of them about to enfold his little craft. 


154 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


He consulted the compass, took his bearings with 
the utmost care, and then as Cabot, finding his 
view obscured, turned to him with a look of in- 
quiry, remarked: 

“ Yes, we are in for it, and you’d better keep 
a sharp lookout for steamers. It wouldn’t be 
very pleasant to run one down and sink it, you 
know.” 

“ I should say not,” responded Cabot as he 
started for the bow of the schooner, where, 
steadying himself by a stay, he peered into the 
thickening mist curtain. For half an hour or so 
he saw nothing, though during that time the 
hoarse bellowing of a steam whistle, approach- 
ing closely and then receding, told of a passing 
ship. While the lookout was still listening to 
this a black form, magnified to gigantic size by 
his apprehensions and the opaqueness through 
which he saw it, loomed up directly ahead and 
apparently not a rod away. With a sharp cry of 
warning the lad sprang aft, while a yell of dis- 
may came from the stranger. The next mo- 
ment, both vessels having been headed sharply 
into the wind, lay side by side, heaving and 
grinding against each other, with their sails slat- 
ting noisily overhead. 

As our lads realised the true character of the 
other craft, they were ready to laugh at their 
fright of a minute earlier, for she was only an 


MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH. 155 


open fishing boat, carrying three men, a woman, 
and a couple of children. 

“We took ye for a steamer, first sight,” re- 
marked one of the men. 

“And we did the same by you,” laughed 
White. “ Who are you and where are you 
bound? ” 

“ Mail boat from L’Anse Au Loup for Mower 
Cove,” replied the man, “ and as we’re not sure 
of our compass we’d be obleeged if you’d give us 
a bearing.” 

“ With pleasure. Come aboard and take it 
for yourself. If you’ll wait just a minute I’ll 
have a letter ready for you.” 

So saying the young skipper dived below and 
hastily pencilled a line to his mother, telling of 
their safety up to that time. 

While he was thus engaged Cabot learned that 
owing to the recent arrival of a steamer from St. 
Johns provisions were plentiful on that part of 
the Labrador coast, but were believed to be 
scarce further north. 

As a result of this information the “ Sea Bee ” 
was headed more to the eastward after the boats 
had again* parted company, for, as White said, 
there was no use wasting time running in to 
Blanc Sablon, Forteau, or any of those places at 
which the trading steamer had touched. “ It is 
too bad,” he continued, “ for I did hope to dis- 


156 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


pose of our cargo somewhere along here. If we 
could do that we might be home again inside of 
ten days. How, if we have to go far to the 
northward, it may be two or three weeks longer 
before we again sight Blomidon.” 

“ I am sorry for your sake,” replied Cabot, 
“ though I would just as soon spend a month up 
here as not. I only wish we could land some- 
where along here, for I am curious to see what 
kind of a country Labrador is.” 

This wish was gratified late that afternoon, 
when the fog lifted in time to disclose the fine 
harbour of Red Bay, into which, White said, 
they would run, so as to spend the night quietly 
at anchor, with both watches turned in at once. 

At Red Bay, therefore, Cabot had his first 
taste of life in Labrador. The shores looked so 
green and attractive that he wondered why the 
only settlement in sight — a collection of a dozen 
huts and fish houses, should be located on a rocky 
islet, bare and verdureless. He asked White, 
who only laughed, and said he’d find out soon 
enough by experience. 

After they had come to anchor and lowered 
the sails, White got an empty water cask into 
the dinghy, saying that first of all they must go 
about a mile to a trout stream at the head of the 
bay for some fresh water. 

“ Trout stream! ” cried Cabot. “ How I wish 


MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH. 157 


I had my fishing tackle. Trout for supper would 
be fine.” 

“ There are other things equally important 
with tackle for trout fishing in this country,” re- 
marked White. 

“ What, for instance? ” 

“ You’ll know inside of half an hour,” was the 
significant reply. 

So they rowed up the bay, Cabot filled with 
curiosity and White chuckling with anticipation. 
The further they went the more was Cabot 
charmed with the beauty of the scene and the 
more desirous did he become to ramble over the 
green slopes on which, as White assured him, de- 
licious berries of several varieties were plentiful. 
At length they opened a charming valley, 
through which wound and tumbled a sparkling 
brook thickly bordered by alders and birches. 
At one side were several substantial log cabins, 
but as they were evidently uninhabited Cabot 
began to undress, declaring that he must have 
a bath in that tempting water. 

“ Better keep your shirt on until we have filled 
the cask,” advised White, at the same time step- 
ping overboard in the shallows at the mouth of 
the stream without removing any of his clothing. 
They pulled the boat up until it grounded, and 
then White began hurriedly to fill the water bar- 
rel, while Cabot waded a short distance up 


158 


UNDER TEE GREAT BEAR . 


stream to see if he could discover any trout. All 
at once he stopped, looked bewildered, and then 
started back on a run. At the same time he 
slapped vigorously at his bare legs, brushed his 
face, waved his arms, and uttered exclamations 
of frantic dismay. The air about him had been 
suddenly blackened by an incredible swarm of 
insects that issued in dense clouds from the low 
growth bordering the stream, and attacked the 
unfortunate youth with the fury of starvation. 

“What’s the matter?” inquired White inno- 
cently, as his companion rushed past him towards 
the open. 

“ Matter! ” retorted the other. “ I’m on fire 
with the bites of these infernal things, and we 
want to get out of here in a hurry or they’ll sting 
us to death.” 

“ Oh, pshaw! ” laughed White, though he also 
was suffering greatly. “ You’ve only struck a 
few ordinary Labrador mosquitoes and black 
flies.” 

“Mosquitoes and black flies!” cried Cabot. 
“ Hornets and red-hot coals, you’d better say. 
How can you stand them? Your skin must be 
thicker than sole leather.” 

“I can’t very well,” admitted White, “but 
this cask has got to be filled, and the sooner we 
do it the quicker we can get away. Break off a 
couple of leafy branches to fight -with and then 


MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH. 159 


keep ’em off both of us as well as you can. It 
will only take a few minutes longer.” 

In spite of their efforts at self-defence, faces, 
hands, and Cabot’s bare legs were covered with 
blood before their task was completed, and they 
were once more in the boat pulling furiously for 
the wind-swept water of the open bay. 

“ I never expected to find mosquitoes this far 
north,” said Cabot, as the pests began to disap- 
pear before the freshening breeze and the rowers 
paused for breath. 

“ Strangers are apt to be unpleasantly surprised 
by them,” replied White, “ but they are here all 
the same, and they extend as far north as any 
white man has ever been. I have been told that 
they are as bad in Greenland as here, and I ex- 
pect they flourish at the North Pole itself. They 
certainly are the curse of Labrador, and until ice 
makes in the fall they effectually prevent all 
travel into the interior. Even the Indians have 
to come to the coast in summer to escape them, 
while the whites who visit this country for the 
fishing make their settlements on the barest and 
most wind-swept places. The few who live here 
the year round have summer homes on the coast, 
but build their winter houses inland, at the 
heads of bays or the mouths of rivers, where 
there is timber to afford some protection from 
the cold. Those are winter houses back there.” 


160 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ I wondered why they were abandoned/’ said 
Cabot, “ but I don’t any longer.” 

“ By the way/’ suggested White, “ you forgot 
to try the trout fishing. Shall we go back? ” 

“ I wouldn’t go fishing on that stream if every 
trout in it was of solid gold and I could scoop 
them out with my hands,” asserted Cabot. “ In 
fact, I don’t know of anything short of starva- 
tion, or dying of thirst, that would take me back 
there.” 

After supper our lads went ashore at the island 
settlement, and were hospitably received by the 
dwellers in its half-dozen stoutly built, earthen- 
roofed houses. These were constructed of logs, 
set on end like palisades, and while they were 
scantily furnished, they were warm and comfort- 
able. In them Cabot, who was regarded with 
great curiosity on account of having come from 
the far foreign city of New York, asked many 
questions, and acquired much information con- 
cerning the strange country to which Fate had 
brought him. Thus he learned that Labrador 
is a province of Newfoundland, and that while 
its prolific fisheries attract some 20,000 people 
to its bleak shores every summer, its entire resi- 
dent white population hardly exceeds one thou- 
sand souls. He was told that from June to 
October news of the outside world is received 
by steamer from St. Johns every two or three 


MOSQUITOES OF THE FAR NORTH. 161 


weeks, but that during the other eight months of 
the year only three mails reach the country, com- 
ing by dog sledge from far-away Quebec. 

While Cabot was gathering these and many 
other interesting bits of information, White was 
becoming confirmed in his belief that to make 
a successful trading trip he must carry his goods 
far to the northward. 

So at daybreak of the following morning the 
“ Sea Bee ” was once more got under way, and 
ran up the rock-bound coast past Chateau Bay, 
with its superb Castle Bock, to Battle Harbour, 
the metropolis of Labrador, which place was 
reached late the same evening. 

At this point, which is at the eastern end of 
the Belle Isle Strait, is a resident population of 
some two hundred souls, a hospital, a church, a 
schoolhouse, and a prosperous mercantile estab- 
lishment. Here our lads found a large steamer 
loading with dried fish for Gibraltar, and here 
Cabot became greatly interested in the rose- 
tinted quartz that forms so striking a feature of 
Labrador scenery. 

At Battle Harbour they were still advised to 
push farther on, and so, bidding farewell to this 
outpost of civilisation, the “ Sea Bee ” again 
spread her dusky wings and set forth for the 
mission stations of the far Horth, where it was 
hoped a profitable market might be found. 

11 


CHAPTER XVII. 


IMPRISONED BY AN ICEBERG. 

The brief northern summer was nearly ended. 
Its days were growing short and chill, its nights 
long and cold. The month of October was well 
advanced, and flurries of snow heralded the ap- 
proach of winter. Most of the Labrador fishing 
fleet had already sailed away, and the few boats 
still left were preparing for a speedy departure. 
The last steamer of the season had come and 
gone, and the few permanent residents of the 
country were moving back from the coast into 
winter quarters. Great flocks of geese streamed 
southward, and with harsh cries gave warning 
of the icy terrors that had driven them from their 
Arctic nesting places. Xight after night the 
wonderful beauties of the aurora borealis were 
flashed across the northern heavens with ever in- 
creasing brilliancy. Every one predicted a hard 
winter, and everything pointed to its early 
coming. 

Hearly two months had elapsed since the little 
schooner “ Sea Bee,” manned by a couple of 


IMPRISONED BY AN ICEBERG . 163 


plucky lads, sailed out of Battle Harbour on a 
trading venture to the northern missions, and 
from that day no tidings had been received con- 
cerning her. The few who remembered her, oc- 
casionally speculated as to what success she had 
met and why she had not put in an appearance 
on her return voyage, but generally dismissed 
the subject by saying that she must have been 
in too great a hurry to get south, as any one hav- 
ing a chance to leave that forsaken country natu- 
rally would be. But the “ Sea Bee ” had not 
gone to the southward, nor was there any likeli- 
hood of her doing so for many long months to 
come. 

On one of the mildest of these October days, 
when the sunshine still held a trace of its summer 
warmth, a solitary figure stood on the crest of a 
bald headland, some hundreds of miles to the 
north of Battle Harbour, gazing wistfully out 
over the lead-coloured waters that came leaping 
and snarling towards the red rocks far beneath 
him. He had on great sea boots that stood sadly 
in need of mending, and was clad in heavy wool- 
lens, faded and worn, that showed many a rent 
and patch. As he leaned on the stout staff that 
had assisted him in climbing, his figure seemed 
bent as though by age, but when lie lifted his 
face, tanned brown by long exposure, the downy 
moustache on his upper lip proclaimed his youth. 


164 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


Altogether the change in his appearance was so 
great that his most intimate friend would hardly 
have recognised in him the youth who had been 
called the best dressed man in the T. I. class of 
? 99 a few months earlier. But the voice with 
which he finally broke the silence of his long 
reverie was unmistakably that of Cabot Grant. 

“ Heigh ho ! ” he sighed, as he cast a sweeping 
glance over the widespread waste of waters on 
which nothing floated save a few belated ice- 
bergs, and then inland over weary miles of deso- 
late upland barrens, treeless, moss-covered, and 
painfully rugged. “ It is tough luck to be shut 
up here like birds in a cage, with no chance of the 
door being opened before next summer. It is 
tougher on Baldwin, though, than on me, and if 
he can stand it I guess I can. But I suppose I 
might as well be getting back or he will be 
worrying about me.” 

Thus saying, Cabot picked up a canvas bag 
that lay at his feet and moved slowly away. 

A very serious misfortune had befallen our 
lads, and for more than a month the “ Sea Bee,” 
though still afloat and as sound as ever, had been 
unable to move from the position she now occu- 
pied. After leaving Battle Harbour her voyage 
to the northward had not been more than ordi- 
narily eventful, though subject to many and irri- 
tating delays. Hot only had there been adverse 




A SOLITARY FIGURE STOOD ON THE CREST OF A BALD HEADLAND. 



















IMPRISONED BY AN ICEBERG. 167 


winds, but she had twice been stormbound for 
days in harbours to which she had run for shelter. 
Then, too, White had insisted on stopping at 
every settlement that promised a chance for trad- 
ing, and had even run fifty miles up Hamilton 
Inlet with the hope of finding customers for his 
goods at the half-breed village of Rigoulette. But 
he had always been disappointed. Either his 
goods were not in demand, or those who desired 
them had nothing to offer in exchange but fish, 
which he did not care to take. And always he 
was told of a scarcity of food still farther north. 
So the voyage had been continued in that direc- 
tion along a coast that ever grew wilder, grander, 
and more inhospitable. 

In the meantime Cabot was delighted at the 
opportunities thus given him for getting ac- 
quainted with the country, and made short ex- 
ploring trips from every port at which they 
touched. Erom some of these he came back 
sadly bitten by the insect pests of the interior, 
and from others he brought quantities of blue- 
berries, pigeon berries that looked and tasted 
like wild cranberries, or yellow, raspberry-like 
“ bake apples,” resembling the salmon berries of 
Alaska. Also he picked up numerous rock and 
mineral specimens that he afterwards carefully 
labelled. 

Finally, when they had passed the last fishing 


168 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


station of which they had any knowledge, and 
had only the missions to look forward to, they 
were overtaken, while far out at sea, by a furious 
gale that sorely buffeted them for twenty-four 
hours, and, in spite of their strenuous efforts, 
drove them towards the coast. The gale was 
accompanied by stinging sleet and blinding 
snow squalls, and at length blew with such vio- 
lence that they could no longer show the smallest 
patch of canvas. 

In this emergency White constructed a sea 
anchor, by means of which he hoped to prolong 
their struggle for at least a few hours. It was 
hardly got overboard, however, before a giant 
surge snapped its cable and hurled the little 
craft helplessly towards the crash and smother 
with which the furious seas warred against an 
iron coast. 

In addition to the other perils surrounding our 
lads, the gloom of impending night was upon 
them, and they could only dimly distinguish the 
towering cliffs against which they expected 
shortly to be dashed. Both of them stood by the 
tiller, grimly silent, and using the last of their 
strength to keep their craft head on, for in the 
trough of that awful sea she would have rolled 
over like a log. Neither of them flinched nor 
showed a sign of fear, though both fully realised 
the fate awaiting them. 


IMPRISONED BY AN ICEBERG. 169 


At last, with the send of a giant billow, the 
little schooner was flung bodily into the roaring 
whiteness, and, with hearts that seemed already 
to have ceased their beating, the poor lads braced 
themselves for the final shock. To their un- 
bounded amazement the “ Sea Bee,” instead of 
dashing against the cliffs, appeared to pass di- 
rectly into them as though they were but shad- 
ows of a solid substance, and in another minute 
had shot, like an arrow from a bow, through a 
rift barely wide enough to afford her passage. 

As her stupefied crew slowly realised that a 
reprieve from death had been granted at the last 
moment, they also became aware that they were 
in a place of absolute darkness, and, save for the 
muffled outside roar of furious seas, of absolute 
quiet. At the same time they were so exhausted 
after their recent prolonged struggle that they 
found barely strength to get overboard an 
anchor. Then, careless of everything else, they 
tumbled into their bunks for the rest and sleep 
they so sadly needed. 

When they next awoke it was broad daylight, 
and their first move was to hasten on deck for 
a view of their surroundings. Their craft lay 
as motionless as a painted ship, in the middle of 
a placid pool black as a highland tarn. In no 
place was it more than a pistol shot in width, 
and it was enclosed by precipitous cliffs that tow- 


170 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


ered hundreds of feet above her. The schooner 
could not have been more happily located by on© 
possessed of an absolute knowledge of the coast 
under the most favourable conditions, and that 
she should have come there as she had was noth- 
ing short of a miracle. 

Tilled with thankfulness for their marvellous 
escape the lads gazed about them curious to dis- 
cover by what means they had gained this haven 
of refuge. On three sides they could see only 
the grim fronts of inaccessible cliffs. On the 
fourth was a strip of beach and a cleft through 
which poured a plume-like waterfall white as a 
wreath of driven snow. 

“ Did we come in that way? ” asked Cabot, 
pointing to this torrent of silver 3pray. 

“ I suppose we must have,” rejoined White 
soberly; “ for I can’t see any other opening, and 
it certainly felt last night as though we were 
sailing over the brink of a dozen waterfalls. But 
let’s get breakfast, for I’m as hungry as a wolf. 
Then there’ll be time enough to find out how 
we got in here, as well as how we are to get out 
again.” 

After a hearty meal they got the dinghy over- 
board and started on a tour of exploration. First 
they visited the beach and found a rude path- 
way leading up beside the waterfall that pro- 
mised exit from the basin to an active climber. 


IMPRISONED BY AN ICEBERG. 171 


“ In spite of all the wonderful happenings of 
last night I don’t believe we came in that way,” 
said Cabot. 

“No,” laughed White, “the old ‘ Bee’s’ 
wings aren’t quite strong enough for that yet, 
though there’s no saying what she may do with 
practice.” 

Satisfied that there was no outlet for a sailing 
craft in this direction, they pulled towards the 
opposite side of the basin, but not until they were 
within a few rods of its cliffs did they discover an 
opening which was so black with shadow that it 
had heretofore escaped their notice. 

“ Here it is,” cried Cabot, “ though ” 

His speech was cut suddenly short, and for a 
moment he stared in silent amazement. The 
farther end of the passage was completely filled 
by what appeared a gigantic mass of white 
rock. 

“ An iceberg ! ” exclaimed the young skipper, 
who was the first to recognise the true nature of 
the obstacle. “ An iceberg driven in by the 
gale and jammed. Now we are in a fix.” 

“I should say as much,” responded Cabot, 
“ for there isn’t space enough to let a rowboat 
out, much less a schooner. No wonder this 
water is as still as that in a corked bottle. What 
shall we do now? ” 

“Wait until it melts, I suppose,” replied 


172 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


White gloomily, “ or until the outside seas batter 
it away.” 

So our lads had waited unhappily and impa- 
tiently for more than a month, and still the ice 
barrier was as immovable as ever. Also, as the 
weather was growing steadily cooler, its melting 
became less and less with each succeeding day. 

During this period of enforced imprisonment 
they had made several exploring trips into the 
interior, but had failed to find trace of human 
life; nor were they able to go far either north 
or south on account of impassable waterways. 
Neither could they discover any timber from 
which to obtain firewood, and as the supply on 
the schooner was nearly exhausted their outlook 
for the future grew daily more and more gloomy. 

For a while they had hoped to signal some 
passing vessel, and one or the other of them made 
daily trips to the most prominent headland of the 
vicinity, where he kept a lookout for hours. But 
this also proved fruitless, for but two vessels had 
been sighted, and neither of these paid any atten- 
tion to their signals. 

Thus the open season passed, and with the 
near approach of an Arctic winter the situation 
of our imprisoned lads grew so desperate that 
they were filled with the gloomiest forebodings. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE NATIVES. 

Only once during their tedious imprisonment 
had our lads received evidence that human 
beings existed in that desolate country, and after 
they gained this information they hardly knew 
whether to rejoice or to regret that it had come 
to them. One morning, some weeks after their 
arrival in the basin, to which they had given the 
name of “ Locked Harbour,” Cabot, going on 
deck for a breath of air, made a discovery so 
startling that, for a moment, he could hardly 
credit the evidence of his eyes. Then he shouted 
to White : 

“ Come up here quick, old man, and take in 
the sight.” 

As the latter, who had been lighting a fire in 
the galley stove, obeyed this call, Cabot pointed 
to the beach, on which stood a row of human 
figures, gazing at the schooner as stolidly as so 
many graven images. 

“ Indians!” cried White, “and perhaps we 


174 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


can get theiU to show us the way to the nearest 
mission.” 

“ Good enough! ” rejoined Cabot in high ex- 
citement. “ Let’s go ashore and interview them 
before they have a chance to disappear as mys- 
teriously as they have appeared. Where do you 
suppose they came from? ” 

“ Can’t imagine, and doubt if they’ll ever tell. 
Probably they are wondering the same thing 
about us. I suppose, though, they are on their 
way towards the interior for the winter. But 
hold on a minute. We must take them some 
sort of a present. Grub is what they’ll be most 
likely to appreciate, for the natives of this coun- 
try are always hungry.” 

Acting upon his own suggestion, White dived 
below, to reappear a minute later with a bag of 
biscuit and a generous piece of salt pork, which' 
he tossed into the dinghy. Then the excited 
lads pulled for the beach on which the strangers 
still waited in motionless expectation. 

“ Only a woman, a baby, and three children,” 
remarked White, in a tone of disappointment, as 
they approached near enough to scrutinise the 
group. “ Still, I suppose they can guide us out 
of here as well as any one else if they only will.” 

The strangers were as White had discovered — 
a woman and children, but one of these latter 
was a half-grown boy of such villainous appear- 


FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH NATIVES. 175 


ance that Cabot promptly named him “Arsenic,” 
because his looks were enough to poison any- 
thing. They were clad in rags, and were so 
miserably thin that they had evidently been on 
short rations for a long time. White’s belief 
that they were hungry was borne out by the 
ravenous manner with which they fell upon the 
provisions he presented to them. 

Arsenic seized the piece of pork and whipping 
out a knife cut it into strips, which he, his 
mother, and his sisters devoured raw, as though 
it were a delicacy to which they had long been 
strangers. The hard biscuit also made a magical 
disappearance, and when all were gone, Arsenic, 
looking up with a hideous grin, uttered the single 
word : “ More.” 

“ Good! ” cried Cabot, “ he can talk English. 
How look here, young man, if we give you more 
— all you can carry, in fact, of pork, bread, 
flour, tea, and sugar, will you show us the road to 
the nearest mission — Ramah, Earn, or Hope- 
dale? ” 

“ Tea, shug,” replied the boy, with an expec- 
tant grin. 

“ Yes, tea, sugar, and a lot of other things if 
you’ll show us the way to Hain. You under- 
stand? ” 

“Tea, shug,” repeated the young Indian, 
again grinning. 


176 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“We wantee git topside Nain. You sabe, 
Hain? ” asked Cabot, pointing to bis companion 
and bimself, and then waving his hand compre- 
hensively at the inland landscape. 

“ Tea, shug, more,” answered the young sav- 
age, promptly, while his relatives regarded him 
admiringly as one who had mastered the art of 
conversing with foreigners. 

“Perhaps he understands English better, or 
rather more, than he speaks it,” suggested White. 

“ It is to be hoped that he does,” replied Cabot. 
“Even then he might not comprehend more 
than one word in a thousand. But I tell you 
what. Let’s go and get our own breakfast, pack 
up what stuff we intend to carry, make the 
schooner as snug as possible, and come back to 
the beach. Here we’ll show these beggars what 
stuff we’ve brought, and give them to understand 
that it shall all be theirs when they get us to 
Nain. Then we’ll start them up the trail, and 
follow wherever they lead. They are bound to 
fetch up somewhere. Even if they don’t take 
us where we want to go, we will have provisions 
enough to last us a week or more, and can surely 
find our way back.” 

“ I hate to leave them, for they might skip out 
while we were gone,” objected White. 

“ That’s so. Well then, why not invite them 
on board? They’ll be safe there until we are 


FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH NATIVES. 177 


ready to go. Say, Arsenic, you all come with 
we all to shipee, sabe? Get tea, sugar, plenty, 
eat heap, you understand? ” 

As Cabot said this he made motions for all the 
natives to enter the dinghy, and then pointed to 
the schooner. 

It was evident that he was understood, and 
equally so that the woman declined his propo- 
sition, for she sat motionless, holding her baby, 
and with the younger children close by her side. 
The boy, however, expressed his willingness to 
visit the schooner by entering the dinghy and 
seating himself in its stern. 

“ That will do,” said White. “The others 
won’t run away without him, and he is the only 
one we want anyhow.” 

So the boat was rowed out to the anchored 
schooner, while those left on the beach watched 
the departure of their son and brother with the 
same apathy that they had shown towards all the 
other happenings of that eventful morning. 

“ Look at the young scarecrow, taking things 
as coolly as though he had always been used to 
having white men row him about a harbour,” 
laughed Cabot, “ and yet I don’t suppose he was 
ever in a regular boat before.” 

“No,” agreed White, “I don’t suppose he 
ever was.” 

They did not allow Arsenic to enter the “ Sea 
12 


178 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


Bee’s ” cabin, but made him stay on deck, where, 
however, he appeared perfectly contented and at 
his ease. Here Cabot brought the various sup- 
plies for their proposed journey and put them up 
in neat packages while White prepared break- 
fast. The former had supposed that their guest 
would be greatly interested in what he was 
doing, but the young savage manifested the ut- 
most indifference to all that took place. In fact 
he seemed to pay no attention to Cabot’s move- 
ments, but squatted on the deck, and gazed in 
silent meditation at the beach, where his mother 
and sisters could be seen also seated in motion- 
less expectation. 

“ I believe he is a perfect idiot,” muttered 
Cabot, “ and wonder that he knows enough to eat 
when he’s hungry.” 

Then White called him, and he went below to 
breakfast. 

“Do you think it is safe to leave that chap 
alone on deck with all those things? ” asked the 
former. 

“ Take a look at him and see for yourself,” re- 
plied Cabot. 

So White crept noiselessly up the companion 
ladder and peeped cautiously out. Arsenic still 
squatted where Cabot had left him, gazing idioti- 
cally off into space. At the same time a close 
observer might have imagined that his beady 


FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH NATIVES. 179 


eyes twinkled with a gleam of interest as White’s 
head appeared above the companion coaming. 

“ I guess it is all right/’ said White, rejoining 
his friend. 

“ Of course it is. He couldn’t swim ashore 
with the things, and there isn’t any other way he 
could make off with them, except by taking them 
in the dinghy, and that chump couldn’t any 
more manage a boat than a cow.” 

In spite of this assertion Cabot finished his 
meal with all speed, and then hurried on deck, 
where he uttered a cry of dismay. A single 
glance showed him that their guest, together 
with all the supplies prepared for their journey, 
was no longer where he had left him. A second 
glance disclosed the dinghy half way to the 
beach, while in her stern, sculling her swiftly 
along with practised hand, stood the wooden- 
headed young savage who didn’t know how to 
manage a boat. 

“ Come back here, you sneak thief, or I’ll fill 
you full of lead,” yelled Cabot, and as the In- 
dian paid not the slightest attention he drew his 
revolver and fired. He never knew where the 
bullet struck, but it certainly did not reach the 
mark he intended, for Arsenic merely increased 
the speed of his boat without even looking back. 

So angry that he hardly realised what he was 
doing, Cabot cocked his pistol and attempted to 


180 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


fire again, but the lock only snapped harmlessly, 
and there was no report. Then he remembered 
that he had expended several shots the day be- 
fore in a fruitless effort to attract attention on 
board a distant vessel seen from the lookout, and 
had neglected to reload. 

As he started for the cabin in quest of more 
cartridges he came into collision with White 
hurrying on deck. 

“ What is the matter? ” inquired the latter, as 
soon as he regained the breath thus knocked out 
of him. 

“ Oh, nothing at all,” replied Cabot, with iron- 
ical calmness, “ only we’ve been played for a 
couple of hayseeds by a wooden-faced young 
heathen who don’t know enough to go in when 
it rains. In his childish folly he has gone off 
with the dinghy, taking our provisions along as 
a souvenir of his visit, and he didn’t even have 
the politeness to look round when I spoke to him. 
Oh! but it will be a chilly day for little Willy if 
I catch him again.” 

“ I am glad you only spoke,” remarked White. 
“When I heard you shoot I didn’t know but what 
you had murdered him.” 

“ Wish I had,” growled Cabot, savagely. 
“Look at him now, and consider the cheek of 
the plain, every-day North American savage.” 

It was aggravating to see the young thief gain 


FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH NATIVES. 181 


the beach and lift from the boat the provisions 
he had so deftly acquired. It was even more 
annoying to see the embryo warrior’s grateful 
family pounce upon the prizes of his bow and 
spear, and to be forced to listen to the joyous 
cries with which they greeted their returned 
hero. Filled now with a bustling activity, the 
Indians quickly divided the spoil according to 
their strength; and then, without one backward 
glance, or a single look towards the schooner, 
they started up the narrow trail by the water- 
fall, with the triumphant Arsenic heading the 
procession, and in another minute had dis- 
appeared. 

As the last fluttering rag vanished from sight, 
our lads, who had watched the latter part of this 
performance in silent wrath, turned to each other 
and burst out laughing. 

“ It was a dirty, mean, low-down trick ! ” cried 
Cabot. “ At the same time he played it with a 
dexterity that compels my admiration. Now, 
what shall we do? ” 

“ I suppose one of us will have to swim ashore 
and get that boat.” 

“What, through ice water? You are right, 
though, and as I am the biggest chump, I’ll go.” 

Cabot was as good as his word, and did swim 
to the beach, though, as he afterwards said, he 
did not know whether his first plunge was made 


182 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


into ice water or molten lead. Then he and 
White followed the trail of their recent guests 
to the crest of the bluffs, but could not discover 
what direction they had taken from that point. 
So they returned to the schooner sadder but 
wiser than before, and wondered whether they 
were better or worse off on account of the recent 
visitation. 

“ If they carry news of us to one of the mis- 
sions we will be better off,” argued Cabot. 

“ But, if they don’t, we are worse off, by at 
least the value of our stolen provisions,” replied 
White. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A MELANCHOLY SITUATION. 

In Labrador, under ordinary circumstances, 
tbe loss of such a quantity of provisions as Ar- 
senic had carried away would have been a very 
serious misfortune. But food was the one thing 
our lads had in abundance, and they were more 
unhappy at having lost a guide, who might have 
shown them a way out of their prison, than over 
the theft he had so successfully accomplished. 

“ The next time we catch an Indian we’ll tie 
a string to him,” said Cabot. 

“ Yes,” agreed White, “ and it will be a stout 
one, too; but I am afraid there won’t be any more 
Indians on the coast this season.” 

“ How about Eskimo? ” 

“ Some of them may come along later, when 
the snowshoeing and sledging get good enough, 
for they are apt to travel pretty far south during 
the winter. Still, there’s no knowing how far 
back from the coast their line of travel may lie 
at this point, and dozens of them might pass with- 
out our knowledge.” 


184 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ Couldn’t we go up or down the coast as well 
as an Eskimo, whenever these miserable water- 
ways freeze over ? ” asked Cabot. 

“ Of course, if we had sledges, dogs, snow- 
shoes, and fur clothing,” replied White; “ but 
without all these things we might just as well 
commit suicide before starting.” 

“ Well, I’ll tell you what we can do right off, 
and the sooner we set about it the better. We 
can go inland as far as possible, and leave a line 
of flags or some sort of signals that will attract 
attention to this place.” 

“ I don’t know but what that is a good idea,” 
remarked White, thoughtfully. “ At any rate, 
it would be better than doing nothing, and if we 
don’t get help in some way we shall certainly 
freeze to death in this place long before the 
winter is over.” 

So Cabot’s suggestion was adopted, and the 
remainder of that day was spent in preparing 
little flags of red and white cloth, attaching them 
to slender sticks, and in making a number of 
wooden arrows. On a smooth side of these they 
wrote : 

“ Help! We are stranded on the coast.” 

“ I wish we could write it in Eskimo and In- 
dian,” said Cabot, “ for English doesn’t seem to 
be the popular language of this country.” 

“ The flags and arrows will be a plain enough 


A MELANCHOLY SITUATION 185 


language for any natives who may run across 
them,” responded White, “and I only hope 
they’ll see them; but it is a slim chance, and we’ll 
probably be frozen stiff long before any one 
finds us.” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” said Cabot, cheerfully. 
“ There’s firewood enough in the schooner itself 
to last quite a while.” 

“ Burn the ‘ Sea Bee ’ ! ” cried White, aghast 
at the suggestion. “ I couldn’t do it.” 

“ Neither could I at present; but I expect both 
of us could and would, long before our blood 
reached the freezing point.” 

“ But if we destroyed the schooner, how would 
we get out of here next summer? ” 

“ I’m sure I don’t know, and don’t care to try 
and think yet a while. Just now I am much 
more interested in the nearby winter than in a 
very distant summer.” 

The next day, and for a number of days there- 
after, our lads worked at the establishment of 
their signal line. They erected stone cairns at 
such distances apart that every one was visible 
from those on either side, and on the summit of 
each they planted a flag with its accompanying 
pointer. In this way they ran an unbroken 
range of signals for ten miles, and would have 
carried it further had they dared expend any 
more of their precious firewood. 


186 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


While they were engaged upon this task the 
weather became noticeably colder, the mercury 
falling below the freezing point each night, and 
the whole country was wrapped in the first folds 
of the snow blanket under which it would sleep 
for months. About the time their signal line 
was completed, however, there came a milder 
day, so suggestive of the vanished summer that 
Cabot declared his intention of spending an hour 
or so at the lookout. “ There might be such a 
thing as a belated vessel,” he argued, “ and I 
might have the luck to signal it. Anyhow, I am 
going to make one more try before agreeing to 
settle down here for the winter.” 

As White was busy moving the galley stove 
into the cabin, and making other preparations 
for their coming struggle against Arctic cold, 
Cabot rowed himself ashore and left the dinghy 
on the beach. Then he climbed to the summit 
of the lofty headland, where, for a long time, he 
leaned thoughtfully on the rude Alpine-stock 
that had aided his steps, and gazed out over the 
vacant ocean. 

While Cabot thus watched for ships that failed 
to come, White was putting the finishing touches 
to his new cabin fixtures. He was just begin- 
ning to wonder if it were not time for his com- 
rade’s return when he felt the slight jar of some 
floating object striking against the side of the 


A MELANCHOLY SITUATION. 187 


schooner. Thinking that Cabot had arrived, he 
shouted a cheery greeting, but turned to survey 
the general effect of what he had done before 
going on deck. The next minute some one softly 
entered the cabin and sprang upon the unsuspect- 
ing youth, overpowering him and flinging him 
to the floor before he had a chance to offer re- 
sistance. Here he was securely bound and left 
to make what he could of the situation, while his 
captors swarmed through the schooner with ex- 
clamations of delight at the richness of their 
prize. 

As White slowly recovered from the bewilder- 
ment of his situation he saw that his assailants 
were Indians, and even recognised in one of 
them the hideous features of the lad whom Cabot 
had named Arsenic. 

“ What fools we have been,” he thought, bit- 
terly. “We might have known that he would 
come back with the first band of his friends that 
he ran across. And to make sure that they 
would find us we filled the country with sign 
posts all pointing this way. Seems to me that 
was about as idiotic a thing as we could have 
done, and if ever a misfortune was deserved this 
one is. I wonder what has become of Cabot, and 
if they have caught him yet. I only hope he 
won’t try to fight ’em, for they’d just as soon kill 
him as not. Probably they’ll kill us both, 


188 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


though, so that no witnesses can ever appear 
against them. Poor chap! It was a sad day 
for him when he attempted to help a fellow as 
unlucky as I am out of his troubles. Now I 
wonder what’s up.” 

A shrill cry of triumph had come from the 
shore, and the savages on the schooner’s deck 
were replying to it with exultant yells. 

The cry from shore announced the capture of 
Cabot by two Indians who had been left behind 
for that express purpose. Of course the new- 
comers had known as soon as they discovered the 
dinghy that at least one of the schooner’s de- 
fenders was on shore, and had made their ar- 
rangements accordingly. As we have seen, the 
naval contingent experienced no difficulty in 
capturing the schooner, and a little later the land 
forces carried out their part of the programme 
with equal facility. They merely hid them- 
selves behind some boulders, and leaping out 
upon the young American, as he came unsuspect- 
ingly swinging down the trail, overpowered him 
before he could make a struggle. Tying him 
beyond a possibility of escape, they carried him 
down to the beach, where they uttered the cries 
that informed their comrades of their triumph. 

Until this time the schooner had been left at 
her anchorage, for fear lest any change in her 
position might arouse Cabot’s suspicions. Now 


A MELANCHOLY SITUATION 189 


that they were free to do as they pleased with 
her the Indians cut her cable, and, after much 
awkward effort, succeeded in towing her to the 
beach, where they made her fast. 

As the darkness and cold of night were now 
upon them, and as they had no longer any use 
for the dinghy, they smashed it in pieces and 
started a fire with its shattered timbers. At the 
same time they broke out several barrels of pro- 
visions, and the entire band, gathering about the 
fire, began to feast upon their contents. 

In the meantime Cabot and White, in their 
respective places of captivity, were equally 
miserable through their ignorance of what had 
happened to each other, and of the fate awaiting 
them. Of course Cabot had seen the schooner 
brought to the beach, while White, still lying on 
her cabin floor, was able to guess at her position 
from such sounds as came to his ears. 

During that eventful afternoon, while the 
savages were still preparing the plan that had re- 
sulted in such complete success, a white man, set- 
ting a line of traps for fur-bearing animals, had 
run across the outermost of the signals estab- 
lished by our lads a few days earlier. Its flutter- 
ing pennon had attracted his attention while he 
was still at a distance, and, filled with curiosity, 
he had gone to it for a closer examination. On 
reaching the signal he read the pencilled writ- 


190 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


ing on its arrow, and then stood irresolute, evi- 
dently much perturbed, for several minutes. Fi- 
nally, heaving a great sigh, he set forth in the 
direction indicated by the arrow. 

He was a gigantic man, and presented a 
strange spectacle as he strode swiftly across the 
country with the long, sliding gait of a practised 
snowshoer. Although his wide-set blue eyes 
were frank and gentle in expression, a heavy 
mass of blonde hair, streaming over his shoul- 
ders like a mane, and a shaggy beard, gave him 
an air of lion-like ferocity. This wildness of 
aspect, as well as his huge proportions, were both 
increased by his garments, which were entirely 
of wolf skins. Even his cap was of this material, 
ornamented by a wolf’s tail that streamed out 
behind and adorned in front with a pair of wolf 
ears pricked sharply forward. He carried a rifle 
and bore on his shoulders, as though it were a 
feather weight, a pack of such size than an or- 
dinarily strong man would have found difficulty 
in lifting it. 

As this remarkable stranger, looking more like 
a Horse war god than a mere human being, 
reached one signal after another, he passed it 
without pausing for examination until he had 
gained a point about half way to the coast. Then 
he came to an abrupt halt and studied the sur- 
rounding snow intently. He had run across the 


A MELANCHOLY SITUATION 191 


trail made by Arsenic and bis fellows a few hours 
earlier. After an examination of the sprawling 
footprints) the big man uttered a peculiar snort 
of satisfaction, and again pushed on with in- 
creased speed. An hour later he stood, con- 
cealed by darkness, on the verge of the cliffs en- 
closing Locked Harbour, gazing interestedly 
down on the fire-lit beach, the half-revealed 
schooner, the feasting savages, and the recum- 
bent, dimly discerned figure of Cabot Grant, 
their prisoner. 


CHAPTER XX. 


COMING OF THE MAN-WOLF. 

Once Arsenic went to where Cabot was lying, 
and, grinning cheerfully, remarked: “ Tea, shug. 
Plenty, yes.” Then he laughed immoderately, 
as did several other Indians who were listening 
admiringly to this flight of eloquence in the 
white man’s own tongue. 

“ Oh, clear out, you grinning baboon,” 
growled Cabot. “ I only hope I’ll live to get 
even with you for this day’s work.” 

The Indians were evidently so pleased at hav- 
ing drawn a retort from their prisoner that he 
declined to gratify them further, or to speak an- 
other word, though for some time Arsenic con- 
tinued to beguile him with his tiresome “ Tea, 
shug,” etc. When the latter finally gave it up 
and started away to get his share of the feast, 
Cabot’s gaze followed him closely. 

All this time our lad was filled with vague ter- 
rors concerning White, of whose fate he had not 
received the slightest intimation, as well as of 
what might be in store for himself. Would he 


COMING OF THE MAN- WOLF. 193 


be carried to the distant interior to become a 
slave in some filthy Indian village, or would he 
be killed before they took their departure ? Per- 
haps they would simply leave him there to freeze 
and starve to death, or they might amuse them- 
selves by burning him at the stake. Did these 
far northern Indians still do such things? He 
wondered, but could not remember ever to have 
heard. 

While considering these unpleasant possibili- 
ties, Cabot was also suffering with cold, from the 
pain of his bonds, and from lying motionless on 
the bed of rocks to which he had been carelessly 
flung. But, with all his pain and his mental dis- 
tress, he still glared at the young savage who had 
so basely betrayed his kindness, and at length 
Arsenic seemed to be uneasily aware of the 
steady gaze. He changed his position several 
times, and his noisy hilarity was gradually suc- 
ceeded by a sullen silence. Suddenly he lifted 
his head and listened apprehensively. His quick 
ear had caught an ominous note in the distant, 
long-drawn howl of a wolf. He spoke of it to 
his comrades, and several of them joined him in 
listening. It came again, a blood-curdling yell, 
now so distinct that all heard it. They stopped 
their feasting to consult in low tones and peer 
fearfully into the surrounding blackness. 

Cabot had also recognised the sound, but, un- 
13 


194 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


canny as it was, he wondered why the howl of 
a wolf should disturb a lot of Indians who must 
know, even better than he, the cowardly nature 
of the beast, and that there was no chance of his 
coming near a fire. 

Even as these thoughts passed through his 
mind, the terrible cry was uttered again — this 
time so close at hand that it was taken up and 
repeated by a chorus of echoes from the nearby 
cliffs. The Indians sprang to their feet in ter- 
ror, while at the same moment an avalanche of 
stones, gravel, and small boulders rushed down 
the face of the cliff close to where Cabot lay. 
Erom it was evolved a monstrous shape that, with 
unearthly howlings, leaped towards the fright- 
ened natives. As it did so flashes of lightning, 
that seemed to dart from it, gleamed with a daz- 
zling radiance on their distorted faces. In an- 
other moment they were in full flight up the 
rugged pathway leading from the basin, hotly 
pursued by their mysterious enemy. 

The latter seemed to pass directly through the 
fire, scattering its blazing brands to all sides. At 
the same time he snatched up a flaming timber 
for use as a weapon against such of the panic- 
stricken savages as still remained within reach. 

The flashes of light that accompanied the ap- 
parition, while illuminating all nearby objects, 
had left it shrouded in darkness, and only when 


COMING OF THE MAN WOLF. 195 


it crouched for an instant above the fire did 
Cabot gain a clear glimpse of the gigantic form. 
To his dismay it appeared to be a great beast with 
a human resemblance. It had the gleaming 
teeth, the horrid jaws, the sharp ears, in fact the 
face and head of a wolf, the tawny mane of a 
lion, and was covered with thick fur; but it stood 
erect and used its arms like a man. At the same 
time, the sounds issuing from its throat seemed 
a combination of incoherent human cries and 
wolfish howlings. Cabot only saw it for a mo- 
ment, and then it was gone, leaping up the path- 
way, whirling the blazing timber above its head, 
and darting its mysterious lightning flashes after 
the flying Indians. 

As the clamour of flight and pursuit died 
away, to be followed by a profound silence, there 
came a muffled call: 

“ Cabot. Cabot Grant.” 

“ Hello!” shouted our lad. “Who is it? 
Where are you? ” 

“ It is I, White,” came the barely heard an- 
swer. “ I am here in the cabin. Can’t you come 
and let me out? ” 

“ Ho,” replied Cabot. “ I am tied hand and 
foot.” 

“ So am I. Are you wounded ? ” 

“Ho. Are you?” 

“ Ho. What are the Indians doing? ” 


196 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ Running for dear life from a Labrador devil 
— half wolf and half man — armed with soundless 
thunder-bolts.” 

During the short silence that followed, White 
meditated upon this extraordinary statement, 
and decided that his comrade’s brain must be af- 
fected by his sufferings. 

“ If I could only twist out of these ropes,” he 
groaned, and then he began again a struggle to 
free his hands from their bonds. At the same 
time Cabot, who had long since discovered the 
futility of such effort, was anxiously listening, 
and wondering what would happen next. 

With all his listening he did not hear the soft 
approach of furred footsteps, and when a blind- 
ing light was flashed full in his face he was so 
startled that he cried out with terror. Instantly 
the light vanished, and he shuddered as he 
realised that the furry monster had returned, 
and, bending over him, was fumbling at his 
bonds. 

In another moment these were severed, he 
was picked up as though he had been an infant, 
and carried to the fire, whose scattered embers 
were speedily re-assembled. As it blazed up, 
Cabot gazed eagerly at the mysterious figure, 
which had thus far worked in silence. Curious 
as he was to see it, he yet dreaded to look upon 
its wolfish features. Therefore, as the fire blazed 


COMING OF THE MAN-WOLF. 197 


up, lie uttered a cry of amazement, for, fully re- 
vealed by its light, was a man; clad in furs, it is 
true, but bare-headed and having a pleasant face 
lighted by kindly blue eyes. 

“You are really human after all! ” gasped 
Cabot. 

The stranger smiled but said nothing. 

“ And can understand English ? ” 

A nod of the head was the only answer. 

“ Then,” continued Cabot, hardly noting that 
his deliverer had not spoken, “ won’t you please 
go aboard the schooner and find my friend? He 
is in the cabin, where those wretches left him, 
tied up.” 

This was the first intimation the stranger had 
received that any one besides Cabot needed his 
assistance, but without a word he did as re- 
quested, swinging himself aboard the “ Sea Bee” 
by her head chains and her bowsprit, which over- 
hung the beach. Directly afterwards a flash of 
light streamed from the cabin windows. Then 
White Baldwin, assisted by the fur-clad giant, 
emerged from his prison, walked stiffly along the 
deck, and was helped down to the beach, where 
Cabot eagerly awaited him. 

After a joyous greeting of his friend the young 
American said anxiously: “ But are you sure you 
are all right, old man — not wounded nor hurt in 
any way? ” 


198 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“No; I am sound as a nut,” replied White. 
“ Only a little stiff, that’s all.” 

“ Same here/’ declared Cabot, industriously 
rubbing his legs to restore their circulation. “ I 
was rapidly turning into a human icicle, though, 
when our big friend dropped down from the sky 
in a : chariot of flame and gave those Indian beg- 
gars such a scare that I don’t suppose they’ve 
stopped running yet. But how did you happen 
to let ’em aboard, old man? Couldn’t you stand 
them off with a gun? ” 

For answer White gave a full account of all 
that had taken place, so far as he knew, and in 
return Cabot described his own exciting experi- 
ences, while the stranger listened attentively, but 
in silence, to both narratives. When Cabot came 
to the end of his own story, he said: 

“ Now, sir, won’t you please tell us how you 
happened to find us out and come to our rescue 
just in the nick of time? I should also very 
much like to know how you managed to tumble 
down that precipice unharmed, as well as how 
you produced those flashes of light that scared 
the savages so badly — me too, for that matter.” 

For answer the stranger only smiled gravely, 
pointed to his lips, and shook his head. 

“ Oh ! ” exclaimed both Cabot and White, 
shocked by this intimation, and the former said : 

“ I beg your pardon, sir. While I noticed that 


COMING OF THE MAN-WOLF. 199 


you didn’t do much talking, it never occurred to 
me that you were dumb. I am awfully sorry, 
and it must be a terrible trial. At the same time, 
I am glad you can hear me say how very grateful 
we are to you for getting us out of a nasty fix in 
the splendid way you did. How, I move we ad- 
journ to the cabin of the schooner, where we can 
make some hot tea and be rather more comfort- 
able than out here. That is, if you think those 
Indians won’t come back.” 

The stranger smiled again, and shook his head 
so reassuringly that the lads had no longer a 
doubt as to the expediency of returning to the 
cabin. There they started a fire in the stove, 
boiled water, made tea, and prepared a meal, of 
which the stranger ate so heartily, and with such 
evident appreciation, that it was a pleasure to 
watch him. 

While supper was being made ready, the big 
man removed his outer garments of wolf fur and 
stood in a close-fitting suit of tanned buckskin 
that clearly revealed the symmetry of his mas- 
sive proportions. 

“ If I were as strong as you look, and, as I 
know from experience, you are,” exclaimed 
Cabot, admiringly, “ I don’t think I would hesi- 
tate to attack a whole tribe of Indians single 
handed. My! but it must be fine to be so strong.” 

After supper Cabot, who generally acted as 


200 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


spokesman, again addressed himself to their 
guest, saying: 

“ If you don’t mind, sir, we’d like to have you 
know just what sort of a predicament we’ve got 
into, and ask your advice as to how we can get 
out of it.” With this preamble Cabot explained 
the whole situation, and ended by saying : 

“ Now you know just how we are fixed, and if 
you can guide us to the nearest Mission Station 
— or, if you haven’t time to go with us, if you 
will give us directions how to find it — we shall 
be under a greater obligation to you than ever.” 

For a minute the stranger looked thoughtful 
but made no sign. Then, dipping his finger in 
a bowl of water, he wrote on the table the single 
word: “ To-morrow.” Having thus dismissed the 
subject for the present, he stretched his huge 
frame on a transom and almost instantly fell 
asleep. 

Our tired lads were not long in following his 
example, and, though several times during the 
night one or the other of them got up to replenish 
the fire, they always found their guest quietly 
sleeping. But when they both awoke late the 
following morning and looked for him he had 
disappeared. 


CHAPTEK XXI. 


A WELCOME MISSIONARY. 

Although the outer garments of wolf fur be- 
longing to the mysterious stranger were also 
missing, our lads were not at first at all uneasy 
concerning his absence, but imagined that their 
guest had merely gone for a breath of fresh air 
or to examine the situation of the schooner by 
daylight. So they mended the fire and got 
breakfast ready, expecting with each moment 
that he would return. As he did not, Cabot 
finally went on deck to look for him. 

The morning was bitterly cold, and the har- 
bour was covered with ice sufficiently strong to 
bear a man. 

“ The old ‘ Bee’s ’ found her winter berth at 
last,” reflected Cabot, as he glanced about him, 
shivering in the keen air. 

To his disappointment he could discover no 
trace of the man upon whom they were depend- 
ing to aid their escape from this icy prison. 
Cabot even dropped to the beach and made his 
way to the crest of the inland bluffs, but could 


202 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


see no living thing on all the vast expanse of 
snow outspread before him. 

“ I guess he has gone, all right,” muttered the 
lad, “ and we are again left to our own resources, 
only a little worse off than we were before. 
Why he came and helped us out at all, though, 
is a mystery to me.” 

With this he retraced his steps and conveyed 
the unwelcome news to White. 

“ It is evident then,” said the latter, “ that we 
must stay here, alive or dead, all winter. And 
I expect we’ll be a great deal more dead than 
alive long before it is over.” 

“ Oh, I don’t know,” replied Cabot. “ This 
doesn’t seem to be such a very uninhabited place, 
after all. I’m sure we’ve had a regular job lot 
of visitors during the past week, and a good many 
of them, too. So I don’t see why we shouldn’t 
have other callers before the winter is over. 
When the next one comes, though, we’ll take 
care and not let him out of our sight. Why 
didn’t you tie a string to one of those Indians, as 
I advised? ” 

“ Because they tied me first,” answered White, 
laughing in spite of his anxiety. “ Why didn’t 
you do it yourself? ” 

“ Because all the tying apparatus was aboard 
the schooner, and I hadn’t so much as a shoe- 
string about me. I wish I could have tied that 


A WELCOME MISSIONARY. 203 


scoundrel Arsenic, though. If ever I meet him 
again I’ll try to teach him a lesson in gratitude. 
But what do you propose to do to-day, skip- 
per? ” 

“ I suppose we might as well unbend and stow 
our canvas, since the ‘ Bee ’ ’ll not want to use 
sails again for a while. We might also send 
down topmasts, stow away what we can of the 
running rigging, get those provisions on the 
beach aboard again, and ” 

“ Hold on! ” cried Cabot, “ you’ve already laid 
out all the work I care to tackle in one day, and 
if you want any more done you’ll have to ship a 
new crew.” 

It was well that the lads had ample occupation 
for that day, otherwise they would have been 
very unhappy. Even Cabot, for all his assumed 
cheerfulness, realised the many dangers with 
which they were beset. He believed that their 
unknown friend had deserted them, and that the 
Indians might return at any moment in over- 
powering numbers. He knew that without out- 
side assistance and guidance it would be impos- 
sible to traverse the vast frozen wilderness lying 
between them and civilisation. He knew also 
that if he and White remained where they were 
they must surely perish before the winter was 
over. So the prospect was far from cheerful, 
and that evening the “ Sea Bee’s ” crew, wearied 


204 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


with their hard day’s work, ate their supper in 
thoughtful silence. 

While they were thus engaged both suddenly 
sprang to their feet with startled faces. A gun 
had been fired from close at hand, and with its 
report came a confusion of shouts. Evidently 
more visitors had arrived; but were they friends 
or foes? 

White thought the latter, and snatched up a 
loaded revolver, declaring that the Indians 
should not again get posession of his schooner 
without fighting for it; but Cabot believed the 
new-comers to be friends. 

“ If they were enemies,” he argued, “ they 
would have got aboard and taken us by surprise 
before making a sound.” So saying he hurried 
up the companionway, with White close at his 
heels. 

“ Hello! ” shouted Cabot. “ Who are you? ” 

“We are friends,” answered a voice from the 
beach in English, but with a strong German ac- 
cent. “ Can you show us a light? ” 

“ Of course w T e can, and will in a moment,” 
replied Cabot joyously. “ White, get a ” 

But White had already darted back into the 
cabin for a lantern, with which he speedily 
emerged, and led the way to the beach. Here 
our lads found a dog sledge with its team, and an 
Eskimo driver, who was already collecting wood 


A WELCOME MISSIONARY. 


205 


for a fire, together with a white man, tall, 
straight, middle-aged, and wearing a long beard 
streaked with grey. 

“ God be with you and keep you,” he said, as 
he shook hands with Cabot and White. “ Where 
is the captain of this schooner? ” 

Cabot pointed to his companion. 

“ Where then is the crew? ” 

At this both lads laughed, and Cabot replied: 
“ I am the crew.” 

“ You don’t mean to tell me that you two boys 
navigated that vessel to this place unaided.” 

“We certainly did, sir, though we have not 
done much navigating for more than a month 
now. But will you please tell us who you are, 
where you came from, and how you happened to 
discover us? Though we are not surprised at 
being discovered, for we seem to be located on a 
highway of travel and have visitors nearly every 
day.” 

“ Indeed,” replied the stranger; “ and yet you 
are stranded in one of the least known and most 
inaccessible bays of the coast. It is rarely visited 
even by natives, and I doubt if any white man 
was ever here before your arrival.” 

“ Then how did you happen to come? ” asked 
Cabot. 

“ I came by special request to find you and 
offer whatever assistance I may render. I am 


206 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


the Rev. Ostrander Mellins, Director of a Mora- 
vian Mission Station located on the coast some 
twenty-five miles from this point.” 

“ But how did you know of us? ” cried Cabot, 
in amazement. “ ¥e haven’t sent any tele- 
grams nor even written any letters since coming 
here.” 

“ Did not you send a messenger yesterday? ” 

“ Ro, sir. Most of yesterday we were prison- 
ers in the hands of some rascally Indians.” 

“ I perceive,” said the missionary, “that I have 
much to hear as well as to tell, and, being both 
tired and cold, would suggest that we seek a more 
sheltered spot than this, where we may converse 
while my man prepares supper.” 

At these words both our lads were covered 
with confusion, and, with profuse apologies for 
their lack of hospitality, besought the missionary 
to accompany them into the schooner’s cabin. 

“ We should have asked you long ago,” de- 
clared White, “ only we were so overcome with 
joy at meeting a white man who could talk to us 
that we realty didn’t know what we were about.” 

“Won’t your man and dogs also come aboard?” 
asked Cabot, anxious to show how hospitable they 
really were. 

“Ho, thank you,” laughed the missionary. 
“ They will do very well where they are.” 

In the cabin, which had never seemed more 


A WELCOME MISSIONARY. 


207 


cheerful and comfortable, the lads helped the 
new-comer remove his fur garments, plied him 
with hot tea, together with everything they could 
think of in the way of eatables, and at the same 
time told him their story as they had told it to 
their other guest of the night before. 

“ And you did not send me any message? ” he 
asked, with a quizzical smile. 

“I know! ” cried Cabot. “It was the man- 
wolf. But where did you meet him, and why 
didn’t he come back with you? How did he 
manage to explain the situation? "We thought 
he couldn’t talk.” 

“ I don’t know that he can,” replied the mis- 
sionary, “ for I have never heard him speak, nor 
do I know any one who has. Neither did I meet 
him. In fact I have never seen him, but I think 
your messenger must be one and the same with 
your man-wolf, since he signed his note ‘ Homo- 
lupus.’ ” 

“ His note,” repeated Cabot curiously. “ Did 
he send you a note? ” 

“ Not exactly; but he left one for me at a place 
near the station, where he has often left furs to 
be exchanged for goods, and called my attention 
to it by a signal of rifle shots. When I reached 
the place I was not surprised to find him gone, 
for he always disappears when it is certain that 
his signal has been understood. I was, however, 


208 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


greatly surprised to find, instead of the usual 
bundle of furs, only a slip of paper supported by 
a cleft stick. On it was written : 

“ 1 Schooner laden with provisions stranded in pocket 
next South of Nukavik Arm. Crew in distress. Need 
immediate assistance. Homolupus. ’ 

“ With such a message to urge me, I made in- 
stant preparation, and came here with all speed.” 

“ It was awfully good of you,” said White. 

“ Perhaps not quite so good as you may think, 
since our annual supply ship having thus far 
failed to make her appearance, the mission is very 
Short of provisions, and the intimation that there 
was an abundance within reach relieved me of a 
load of anxiety. So if you are disposed to 
seH ” 

“ Excuse me for interrupting,” broke in Cabot, 
“ but, before you get to talking business, please 
tell us something more about the man who sent 
you to our relief. Who is he? Where does he 
live? What does he look like? Why does he 
disappear when you go in answer to his signals? 
Why do you call him a wolf-man? What ” 

“ Seems to me that is about as many questions 
as I can remember at one time,” said the mission- 
ary, smiling at Cabot’s eagerness, “ and I am 
sorry that, with my slight knowledge of the sub- 
ject, I cannot answer them satisfactorily. The 


A WELCOME MISSIONARY. 


209 


man-wolf was well known to this country before 
I came to it, which was three years ago, and 
dwells somewhere to the southward of this place, 
though no one, to my knowledge, has ever seen 
his habitation. Some of the Eskimo can point 
out its location, but they are in such terror of him 
that they give it a wide berth whenever travel- 
ling in that direction. As I said, I have never 
seen him, nor have I ever known of his holding 
communication other than by writing with any 
human being. The natives describe him as a 
man of great size with the head of a wolf.” 

“ There ! I was sure it wasn’t imagination,” 
interrupted Cabot excitedly. “ When I first saw 
him his head and face were those of a wolf, but 
the next time they were those of a man, and so 
I thought I must have dreamed the wolf part. I 
wonder how he manages it, and I wish I knew 
how he produces those lightning flashes. If this 
were a more civilised part of the world I should 
say that they resulted from electricity — but of 
course that couldn’t be away ofl here in the wil- 
derness. I asked him about them but got no 
answer.” 

“ Have you, then, seen and spoken with him? ” 
asked the missionary. 

“ Of course we have seen him, for he spent last 
night in this very cabin, and we have spoken to 
him, though not with him, for he is dumb.” 

14 


210 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ I envy you tlie privilege of having met him, 
and am greatly relieved to learn that he is so 
wholly human; for the natives regard him as 
either a god or a devil, I can’t tell which, and 
ascribe to him superhuman powers. He has 
righted many a wrong, punished many an evil- 
doer, saved many a poor soul from starvation, and 
performed innumerable deeds of kindness. He 
dares everything and seems able to do anything. 
He is at once the guardian angel and the terror 
of this region, and, on the whole, I doubt if there 
is in all the world to-day a more remarkable being 
than the man-wolf of Labrador.” 


CHAPTER XXII. 


GOOD-BYE TO THE “ SEA BEE.” 

White Baldwin was of course interested in 
this talk of the man- wolf, hut he was, at the same 
time, anxious to hear what the new-comer had to 
say concerning the cargo of provisions for which 
he had so long sought a purchaser. His heart 
beat high with the hope of a speedy return to 
his home and its loved ones; for he had already 
planned to leave the “ Sea Bee ” where she was 
until the following season. In case he could dis- 
pose of her cargo, he would insist that transpor- 
tation and a guide — at least as far as Indian Har- 
bour — should form part of the bargain. Erom 
Indian Harbour they would surely find some way 
of continuing the journey. He might even 
reach home by Christmas ! W ouldn’t it be great 
if he could, and if, at the same time, he could 
carry with him enough money to relieve all pres- 
ent anxieties? Perhaps he might even be able 
to take his mother and Cola to St. Johns for a 
long visit. Of course Cabot would accompany 
them, for with the warships all gone south for 
the winter there would be no danger of arrest, 


212 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


and then he would find out what a splendid city 
the capital of Newfoundland really was. Oh! 
if they could only start at once; but of course 
there were certain preliminaries to be settled 
first, and the sooner they got at them the better. 

Thus thinking, White took advantage of a 
pause in the conversation to remark : “ What a 
very fortunate thing it is that you who want to 
purchase provisions and we who have them for 
sale should come together in this remarkable 
fashion.” 

“ It is so fortunate and so remarkable that I 
must regard it as a distinct leading of the Divine 
Providence that knows our every need and 
guides our halting footsteps,” replied the mis- 
sionary. 

“ And do you think,” continued the young 
trader anxiously, “that you want our entire 
cargo? ” 

“I am sure of it; and even then we may be 
put on short rations before the winter is ended, 
for there are many to be fed.” 

With this opening the conversation drifted so 
easily into business details that, before the occu- 
pants of the cabin turned in for the night, every- 
thing had been arranged. White had been 
somewhat disappointed when the missionary said 
that, having no funds in St. Johns, he would be 
obliged to give a sight draft on New York in 


GOOD-BYE TO THE “ SEA BEE .” 213 


payment for tlie goods. Tliis slight annoyance 
was, however, speedily smoothed away by Cabot, 
who offered to cash the draft immediately upon 
their arrival in St. Johns, where, he said, he had 
ample funds for the purpose. It was also agreed 
that our lads should be provided with fur cloth- 
ing, snowshoes, a dog sledge, and a guide as far 
as Indian Harbour. In addition to taking the 
cargo of the “ Sea Bee,” the missionary proposed 
to purchase the schooner itself, at a sum much 
less than her real value, but one that constituted 
a very fair offer under the circumstances. 

White hesitated over this proposition, but 
finally accepted it upon condition that at any 
time during the following summer he should be 
allowed to buy the schooner back at the same 
price he now received for her. 

“ Isn’t it fine,” he whispered to Cabot, after all 
hands had sought their bunks, “ to think that our 
venture has turned out So splendidly after all? ” 

“ Fine is no name for it,” rejoined the other. 
“ But I do hope we will have the chance of meet- 
ing Mr. Homolupus once more and of thanking 
him for what he has done. We owe so much to 
him that, man-wolf or no man-wolf, I consider 
him a splendid fellow.” 

In spite of their impatience to start south- 
wards, our lads were still compelled to spend two 
weeks' longer at Locked Harbour. First the mis- 


214 


UNDER THE GREAT REAR. 


sionary was obliged to make a visit to his station, 
and, on his return, the snow was not in condition 
for a long sledge journey. Furious winds had 
piled it into drifts, with intervening spaces of 
bare ground, over which sledge travel would be 
impossible. So they must wait until the au- 
tumnal storms were over and winter had settled 
down in earnest. But, impatient as they were, 
time no longer hung heavily on their hands, nor 
did they now regard their place of abode as a 
prison. Its solitude and dreariness had fled be- 
fore the advent of half a hundred Eskimo — 
short, squarely built men, moon-faced women, 
and roly-poly children, looking like animated 
balls of fur, all of whom had been brought from 
the mission to form a settlement on the beach. 
It was easier to bring them to the Heaven-sent 
provisions that were to keep them until spring 
than it would have been to transport the heavy 
barrels of flour and pork to the mission. At the 
same time, they could protect the schooner from 
depredations by other wandering natives. 

So they came, bag and baggage, babies, dogs, 
and all, and at once set to work constructing snug 
habitations, in which, with plenty of food and 
plenty of seal oil, they could live happily and 
comfortably during the long winter months. 
These structures were neither large nor elegant 
In fact they were only hovels sunk half under- 


GOOD-BYE TO THE 11 SEA BEE” 215 


ground, with low stone walls, supporting roofs of 
whale ribs, covered thick with earth. A little 
later they would be buried beneath warm, shape- 
less mounds of snow. To most of them outside 
light and air could only be admitted through the 
low doorways, but one, more pretentious than 
the others, was provided with an old window sash, 
in which the place of missing panes was filled by 
dried intestines tightly stretched. In every 
hovel a stone lamp filled with seal oil burned 
night and day, furnishing light, warmth, and the 
heat for melting ice into drinking water, boiling 
tea, drying wet mittens, and doing the family 
cooking. 

Cabot and White were immensely interested 
in watching the construction of these primitive 
Labrador homes. They were also amazed at the 
readiness with which the natives made them- 
selves snugly safe and comfortable, in a place 
where they had despaired of keeping alive. Be- 
sides watching the Eskimo prepare for the win- 
ter and picking up many words of their language, 
Cabot took daily lessons in snowshoeing and the 
management of dog teams, in both of which arts 
White was already an adept. 

According to contract, both lads had been pro- 
vided with complete outfits for Arctic travel, in- 
cluding fur clothing, boots, and sleeping bags. 
A sledge with a fine team of dogs had also been 


216 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


placed at their disposal, and an intelligent young 
Eskimo, who could speak some English, was 
ready to guide them on their southward journey. 
He was introduced to his future travelling com- 
panions as Ildlat-Netschillik, whereupon Cabot 
remarked: 

“ That is an elegant name for special occa- 
sions, such as might occur once or twice in a life- 
time, but seems to me something less ornamental, 
like ‘ Jim/ for instance, would be better for 
everyday use. I wonder if he would mind being 
called Jim? ” 

On being asked this question the young Es- 
kimo, grinning broadly, said: 

“ A’ yite. Yim plenty goot,” and afterwards 
he always answered promptly and cheerfully to 
the name of “ Yim.” 

At length snow fell for several days almost 
without intermission. Then a fierce wind took 
it in hand, kneading it, packing it, and stuffing 
it into every crack and cranny of the landscape 
until hollows were filled, ridges were nicely 
rounded, and rocks had disappeared. In the 
meantime, strong white bridges had been thrown 
across lake and stream, and the great Labrador 
highway for winter travel was formally opened 
to the public. 

November was well advanced, and our lads 
had been prisoners in Locked Harbour for more 





6 6 




YIM 






























GOOD-BYE TO THE “ SEA BEE” 219 


than two months when this way of escape was 
opened to them. .,It had been decided that they 
should take a single large sledge, having broad 
runners, and a double team of dogs — ten in all. 
On this, therefore, was finally lashed a great load 
of provisions, frozen walrus meat for dog food, 
sleeping bags, the three all-important cooking 
utensils of the wilderness — kettle, fry-pan, and 
teapot — an axe, and Cabot’s bag of specimens. 
With this outfit Yim was to conduct them over 
the first half of their 400-mile journey, or to In- 
dian Harbour, where, through a letter from the 
missionary, they expected to procure a fresh 
team, renew their supply of provisions, and ob- 
tain another guide, who should go with them to 
Battle Harbour. 

When the time for starting arrived, the entire 
population of the new settlement turned out to 
see them off and help get their heavily laden 
sledge up the steep ascent from the beach. At 
the crest of the bluffs the men fired a parting 
salute from their smooth-bore guns, the women 
and children uttered shrill cries of farewell, and 
the missionary gave them his final blessing, Yim 
cracked his eighteen-foot whiplash like a pistol 
shot, shouted to his dogs, and the yelping team 
sprang forward. Our lads gave a fond back- 
ward glance at their loved schooner, so far below 
them that she looked like a toy boat, and then, 


220 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


with hearts too full for words, they faced the 
vast white wilderness outspread like a frozen sea 
before them. 

All that day they pushed steadily forward al- 
most without a pause, holding a westerly course 
to pass around a deep fiord that penetrated far 
inland, and might not yet be crossed with safety. 
Yim ran beside his straining dogs, encouraging 
the laggards with whip and voice ; White led the 
way and broke the trail, while Cabot brought up 
the rear and helped the sledge over difficult 
places. 

F or several hours they followed the signal line 
with its fluttering flags, and felt that they were 
still on familiar ground. At length even these 
were left behind, and for three hours longer they 
plodded sturdily forward, guided only by Yim’s 
unerring instinct. Then the short day came to 
an end and night descended with a chill breath 
of bitter winds. Cabot was nearly exhausted, 
and even White was painfully weary, but both 
had been buoyed up by a hope that they might 
reach timber and have abundant firewood for 
their first camp. Now, when Yim, throwing 
down his whip and giving his dogs the command 
to halt, calmly announced that they would make 
camp where they were, both lads looked at him 
in dismay. 

“We surely can’t camp here in the snow with- 


GOOD-BYE TO THE “ SEA BEE” 221 


out a fire or any kind of shelter! ” exclaimed 
Cabot. “ Why, man, we’ll be frozen stiff long 
before morning.” 

“ A’ yite. Me fix um. You see,” responded 
Yim, cheerfully. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THE COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 

In that dreary waste of snow, unrelieved so far 
as the eye could reach by so much as a single 
bush, the making of a camp that should contain 
even the rudiments of comfort seemed as hope- 
less to White, who had always been accustomed 
to a timbered country, as it did to Cabot, who 
knew nothing of real camp life, and had only 
played at camping in the Adirondacks. Left to 
their own devices, they would have passed a most 
uncomfortable if not a perilous night, for the 
mercury stood at many degrees below zero. But 
they had Yim with them, and he, being perfectly 
at home amid all that desolation, was determined 
to enjoy all the home comforts it could be made 
to yield. 

First he marked out a circular space some 
twelve feet in diameter, from which he bade his 
companions excavate the snow with their snow- 
shoes, and throw it out on the windward side. 
While they were doing this he went a short dis- 
tance away, and, from a mass of closely com- 


COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 223 


pacted snow, carved out with, his knife a number 
of blocks, as large as could be handled without 
breaking, to each of which he gave a slight 
curve. With time enough Yim could have con- 
structed from such slabs a perfect igloo or snow 
hut, but the fading daylight was very precious, 
and he did not consider that the cold was yet 
sufficiently severe to demand a complete enclo- 
sure. So he merely built a low, hood-like struc- 
ture on the windward side of the space the others 
had cleared. One side of this was still further 
extended by the sledge, relieved of its load and 
set on edge. 

The precious provisions were placed inside the 
rude shelter, the sleeping bags covered its floor, 
and, when all was completed, Yim surveyed his 
work with great satisfaction. 

“ It is pretty good so far as it goes,” admitted 
White, dubiously, “ but I don’t see how we are 
to get along without at least enough fire to boil a 
pot of tea, and of course we can’t have a fire with- 
out wood.” 

“ That’s so,” agreed Cabot, shivering. 

Yim only smiled knowingly as he groped 
among the miscellaneous articles piled at the 
back of the hut. From them he finally drew 
forth a shallow soapstone bowl having one 
straight side about six inches long. It was 
shaped something like a clam shell, and was a 


224 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


specimen of the world-famed Eskimo cooking 
lamp. He also produced a bladder full of seal 
oil. 

“ Good enough! ” cried Cabot. “ Yim has re- 
membered to bring along his travelling cook 
stove.” 

Setting the lamp in the most sheltered corner 
of the hut, Yim filled it with oil, and then, draw- 
ing forth a pouch that hung from his neck, he 
produced a wick made of sphagnum moss pre- 
viously dried, rolled, and oiled. This he laid 
carefully along the straight side of the lamp. 
Then, turning to Cabot, he uttered the single 
word: “Metches.” 

“ Great Scott!” exclaimed the young engi- 
neer, “ I forgot to bring any. But of course you 
must have some, White.” 

“No, I haven’t. Matches were among the 
things you were to look after, and so I never gave 
them a thought.” 

The spirits of the lads, raised to a high pitch 
of expectation by the sight of Yim’s lamp, sud- 
denly sank to zero with the discovery that they 
had no means for lighting it. Yim, however, 
only smiled at their dismay. Of course he had 
long since learned the use of matches, and to ap- 
preciate them at their full value; but he also 
knew how to produce fire without their aid in the 
simplest manner ever devised by primitive man. 


COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 225 


It is the friction method of rubbing wood against 
wood, and, in one form or another, is used all 
over the world. It was known to the most an- 
cient Egyptians, and is practised to-day by na- 
tives of the Amazon valley, dwellers on South 
Pacific islands, inhabitants of Polar regions, 
Indians of [North America, and the negroes of 
Central Africa. These widely scattered peoples 
use various models of wooden drills, ploughs, or 
saws. But Yim’s method is the simplest of all. 
When he saw that no matches were forthcoming, 
he said: 

“ A’ yite. Me fix um.” At the same time he 
produced two pieces of soft wood from some hid- 
ing place in his garments. One of these, known 
as the “ spindle,” was a stick about two feet long 
by three-quarters of an inch in diameter and 
having a rounded point. The other, called the 
“ hearth,” was flat, about eighteen inches in 
length, half an inch thick, and three inches wide. 
On its upper surface, close to one edge, were 
several slight cavities, each just large enough to 
hold the rounded end of the spindle, and from 
each was cut a narrow slot down the side of the 
hearth. This slot is an indispensable feature, 
and without it all efforts to produce fire by wood- 
friction must fail. 

Laying the hearth on the flat side of a sledge 
runner and kneeling on it to hold it firmly in 
15 


226 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


position, Yim set the rounded end of his spindle 
in one of its depressions, and holding the upper 
end between the palms of his hands, began to 
twirl it rapidly, at the same time exerting all pos- 
sible downward pressure. As his hands moved 
towards the lower end of the spindle he dexter- 
ously shifted them back to the top, without lift- 
ing it or allowing air to get under its lower 
end. 

With the continuation of the twirling process 
a tiny stream of wood meal, ground off by fric- 
tion, poured through the slot at the side of the 
hearth, and accumulated in a little pile, that all 
at once began to smoke. In two seconds more 
it was a glowing coal of fire. Then Yim dropped 
his spindle, covered the coal with a bit of tinder 
previously made ready, and blew it into a flame, 
which he deftly transferred to the wick of his 
lamp. 

At sight of the first spiral of smoke our lads 
had been filled with amazement. As the coal 
began to glow they uttered exclamations of de- 
light, and when the actual flame appeared they 
broke into such enthusiastic cheering as set all 
the dogs to barking in sympathy. 

“ It is one of the most wonderful things I ever 
saw,” cried Cabot. “ I’ve often read of fire 
being produced by wood friction, and I have 
tried it lots of times myself, but as I never could 


COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 227 


raise even a smoke, and never before met any 
one who could, I decided that it was all a fake 
got up by story writers.” 

“ I was rather doubtful about it myself,” 
admitted White. “But, I say! Isn’t that a 
great lamp, and doesn’t it make things look 
cheery? ” 

White’s approval of “ Yim’s cook stove,” as 
Cabot called it, was well merited, for its five 
inches of blazing wick yielded as much light and 
twice the heat of a first-class kerosene lamp. 
Over it Yim had already suspended a kettle full 
of snow, and now he laid a slab of frozen pork 
close beside it to be thawed out. 

While waiting for these he fed the dogs, who 
had been watching him with wistful eyes and 
impatient yelpings. To each he threw a two- 
pound chunk of frozen walrus meat, and each 
devoured his portion with such ravenous rapidity 
that Cabot declared they swallowed them whole. 

Half an hour after the lamp was lighted it had 
converted enough snow into boiling water to pro- 
vide three steaming cups of tea, and while our 
lads sipped at these Yim cut slices of thawed 
pork, laid them in the fry-pan, and holding this 
over his lamp soon had them sizzling and brown- 
ing in the most appetising manner. This, with 
tea and ship biscuit, constituted their supper. 

When Yim no longer needed his lamp for 


228 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


cooking he removed two-thirds of its wick and 
allowed the flame thus reduced to burn all night. 
Over it hung a kettle of melting snow, and above 
this, on a snowshoe, supported by two others, 
wet mittens and moccasins were slowly but thor- 
oughly dried. 

In spite of the hot tea, their fur-lined sleeping 
bags, and the effective wind-break behind which 
they were huddled, our lads suffered with cold 
long before the night was over, and were quite 
willing to make a start when Yim, after a glance 
at the stars, announced that daylight was only 
three hours away. For breakfast they had more 
scalding tea and a quantity of hard bread, broken 
into small bits, soaked in warm water, fried in 
seal oil, and eaten with sugar. White pro- 
nounced this fine, but Cabot only ate it under 
protest, because, as he said, he must fill up with 
something. 

The travel of that day, with its accompani- 
ments of blisters and strained muscles, was much 
harder than that of the day before, and our weary 
lads were thankful when, towards its close, they 
entered a belt of timber that had been in sight 
for hours. 

That night they slept warmly and soundly on 
luxurious beds of spruce boughs beside a great 
fire frequently replenished by Yim. 

“ I tell you what,” said Cabot, as, early in the 


COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 229 


evening, he basked in the heat of this blaze, 
“ there’s nothing in all this world so good as that. 
For my part I consider fire to be the greatest 
blessing ever conferred upon mankind.” 

“ How about light, air, water, food, and 
sleep? ” asked White. 

“ Those are necessaries, but fire is a luxury. 
Hot only that, but it is the first of all luxuries 
and the one upon which nearly all others de- 
pend.” 

When, a little later, Cabot lay so close to the 
blaze that his sleeping bag caught on fire, and he 
burned his hands in putting it out, White laugh- 
ingly asked: 

“ What do you think of your luxury now? ” 

“ I think,” was the reply, “ that it proves itself 
the greatest of luxuries by punishing over-indul- 
gence in it with the greatest amount of pain.” 

“ Umph! ” remarked Yim, who was listening, 
“ Big fire, goot. Baby fire, more goot. Innuit 
yamp mos’ goot of any.” 

“ Oh, pshaw!” retorted Cabot, “your sooty 
little lamp isn’t in it with a blaze like that.” 

On the third day of their journey the party 
had skirted the edge of the timber for several 
hours, when all at once Yim held his head high 
with dilated nostrils. At the same time it was 
noticed that the dogs were also sniffing eagerly. 

“ What is it, Yim? ” 


230 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ Fire. Injin fire/’ was the reply. 

“ I’d like to know how you can tell an Indian 
fire from any other,” said Cabot. “ Especially 
when it is so far away that I can’t smell anything 
but cold air.” 

But Yim was. right, for, after a while, his com- 
panions also smelled smoke, and a little later the 
yelping of their dogs was answered by shrill cries 
from within the timber. Suddenly two tattered 
scarecrows of children emerged from the thick 
growth, stared for an instant, and then, with ter- 
rified expressions, darted back like frightened 
rabbits. 

“The Arsenic kids!” cried Cabot, who had 
recognised them. “Flow I’ll catch that scoun- 
drel.” As he spoke he sprang after the children, 
and was instantly lost to view in the low timber. 

“Hold on!” shouted White. “You’ll run 
into an ambush.” 

But Cabot, crashing through the undergrowth, 
failed to hear the warning, and with the loyalty 
of true friendship White started after him. A 
minute later he overtook his impulsive comrade 
standing still and gazing irresolute at a canvas 
tent, black with age and smoke, and patched in 
many places. It stood on the edge of a small 
lake, and showed no sign of occupancy save a 
slender curl of smoke that drifted from a vent 
hole in its apex. 


COMFORT OF AN ESKIMO LAMP. 231 


“ Get behind cover,” cried White. “ They 
may take a pot shot at any moment.” 

“ I don’t believe it,” replied Cabot. “ Any 
way, Pm bound to see what’s inside.” 

Thus saying he stepped forward and lifted the 
dingy flap. 


CHAPTER XXIY. 


OBJECTS OF CHAEITY. 

While Cabot felt very bitter against the 
young Indian whom he had named “ Arsenic,” 
on account of the base ingratitude with which 
the latter had repaid the kindness shown him, 
and was determined to punish him for it in some 
way, he had not the slightest idea what form the 
punishment would take. Of course he did not 
intend to kill Arsenic, nor even to severely in- 
jure him, but he had thought of giving the rascal 
a sound thrashing, and only hoped he could 
make him understand what it was for. In the 
excitement of the past two weeks he had forgot- 
ten all about Arsenic, but the sight of those rag- 
ged children had awakened his animosity, and 
he had followed them, hoping that they would 
lead him to the object of his just wrath. It was 
only when he reached the sorry-looking tent that 
he remembered the other savages whom Arsenic 
had brought with him on his second visit to the ’ 
schooner, and wondered if some of them might 


OBJECTS OF CHARITY. 


233 


not be concealed behind the canvas screen ready 
to spring upon him. 

With this thought he stepped nimbly to one 
side as he threw open the flap, and stood for a 
momertt waiting for what might happen. There 
was no rush of men and no sound, save only a 
faint cry of terror, hearing which Cabot peered 
cautiously around the edge of the opening. 

A poor little fire of sticks smouldered on the 
ground in the middle, filling the place with a 
pungent smoke. Through this Cabot could at 
first make out only a confused huddle at one side, 
from which several pairs of eyes glared at him 
like those of wild beasts. As he entered the tent 
a human figure detached itself from this and 
strove to rise, but fell back weakly helpless. In 
another moment a closer view disclosed to Cabot 
the whole dreadful situation. The huddle re- 
solved itself into a woman, hollow-cheeked and 
gaunt with sickness and hunger, two children in 
slightly better plight, and a little dead baby. 
There was no other person in the tent, and it con- 
tained no furnishing except the heap of boughs, 
rags, and scraps of fur that passed for a bed, 
and a broken kettle that lay beside the fire. 
On the floor were scattered a few bones picked 
clean, from which even the marrow had been 
extracted; but otherwise there was no vestige of 
food. 


234 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ I believe tbe y are starving to death ! ” cried 
Cabot, as he made these discoveries. 

"It certainly looks like it,” replied White, 
who had followed his friend into the tent. “ I 
wonder what they did with all the provisions they 
stole from us.” 

“ Probably they were taken from them in turn 
to feed those other Indians. At any rate, they 
are destitute enough now, and we can’t leave 
them here to die. Go and bring Yim with the 
sled as quick as you can, while I wake up this 
fire.” 

“ All right,” replied White, “ only I’m afraid 
he won’t come.” 

“ He must come,” said Cabot decisively. 

The hatred between Eskimo and Indian is so 
bitter that it took all White’s powers of persua- 
sion, together with certain threats, to bring Yim 
to the tent, but once there even he was suffi- 
ciently roused by its spectacle of suffering to be- 
stir himself most actively. 

During the next hour, while the starving, half- 
frozen Indians were warmed and fed, the res- 
cuers discussed the situation and what should be 
done. They could not leave the helpless family 
as they had found them, neither could they carry 
them away, and it would be folly to remain with 
them longer than was absolutely necessary. 
They could not gain a word of information from 


OBJECTS OF CHARITY. 


235 


the woman or children as to how they had arrived 
at such a pitiable plight, what they had done with 
the stolen provisions, why their friends had aban- 
doned them, or what had become of Arsenic. 

“ I’ll tell you what,” said Cabot at length; 
“ we’ll provide them with a supply of wood and 
leave all the provisions we can possibly spare. 
Then we will hurry on to Indian Harbour, send 
back some more provisions from there by Yim, 
and get him to report the case to Mr. Mellins.” 

As there seemed nothing better to be done, 
this plan was carried out, though dividing the 
provisions made each portion look woefully small, 
and by noon the sledge was again on its way 
southward. 

The head of the fiord having been reached, 
the trail now left the sheltering timber and 
struck across an open country, which was also 
extremely rugged, abounding in hills and hol- 
lows. Over these the sledge pulled heavily, in 
spite of its lightened load, because one of the ice 
shoes, with which its runners were shod, had 
broken and could not be repaired until camp was 
made. 

When they had gone about three miles, and 
while our lads were still talking of the suffering 
they had so recently witnessed, they were at- 
tracted by an exclamation from Yim, who was 
pointing eagerly ahead. Looking in that direc- 


236 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


tion, they saw a line of dark objects, that had 
just topped a distant ridge, running swiftly to- 
wards them. 

“ Caribou ! ” shouted White, in great excite- 
ment, at the same time seizing his rifle from the 
sledge and hastily removing it from its sealskin 
case. In another minute sledge and dogs were 
concealed in a bit of a gully, with Cabot to watch 
them, while Yim and White, lying flat behind 
the crest of a low ridge, were eagerly noting the 
course of the approaching animals. When it be- 
came evident that they would pass at some dis- 
tance on the right, White, crouching low, ran in 
that direction. 

The caribou appeared badly frightened, paus- 
ing every few moments to face about and cast 
terrified glances over the way they had come. 
All at once, during one of these pauses, a shot 
rang out, followed quickly by another, and, as 
the terrified animals dashed madly away in a new 
direction, one of their number dropped behind, 
staggered, and fell. 

“ I’ve got him ! I’ve got him ! ” yelled White, 
wild with the joy of his achievement. 

“ Hurrah for us!” shouted Cabot. “ Steaks 
and spare-ribs for supper to-night.” 

“ Yip, yip, yip! ” screamed Yim to his dogs, 
and with a jubilant chorus of yells and yelpings, 
the entire outfit streamed over the ridge to the 


OBJECTS OF CHARITY. 


237 


place where the unfortunate caribou lay motion- 
less. 

In his broken English Yim gave the lads to 
understand that it would be advisable to camp 
where they were, in order to prepare their meat 
for transportation, and also to mend their broken 
sledge shoe. This latter, he explained, could be 
done much better with a mixture of blood and 
snow than with any other available material. He 
furthermore intimated that he feared they might 
be overtaken by a blizzard before morning, in 
which case they could best defy it in a regularly 
built igloo. 

All these reasons for delay seemed so good that 
the others accepted them, and the work outlined 
by Yim was immediately begun. In cutting up 
the caribou, as in building the snow hut, Cabot, 
from lack of experience, could give but slight 
assistance, and, realising this, he made a proposal. 

“ Look here,” he said. “ The wood we have 
brought along won’t last long and I want a good 
fire to-night. I also want to carry some of this 
meat to those poor wretches we have just left. 
We have got more than we can take with us, any- 
how. So I am going back with a leg of venison, 
and on my return I’ll bring all the wood I can 
pack.” 

“But you might lose the way,” objected 
White. 


238 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


“ No one could lose so plain a trail as the one 
we have just made,” replied Cabot, scornfully. 

“ Suppose it should be dark before you got 
back? ” 

“ There will be three hours of daylight yet, 
and I won’t be gone more than two at the most. 
Anyhow, I must get some of this meat to those 
starving children.” 

White’s protests were ineffectual before Ca- 
bot’s strong resolve, and, as soon as a forequarter 
of the caribou could be made ready, the latter 
set forth on his errand of mercy. Although he 
had no difficulty in finding the trail, it was so 
much harder to walk with a heavy load than it 
had been without one that a full hour had passed 
before he again came within sight of the lonely 
tent in the forest. 

One of the children who was outside spied him 
and announced his coming, so that when he en- 
tered the tent he again found a frightened group 
huddled together and apprehensively awaiting 
him. But they were stronger now, and the chil- 
dren uttered little squeals of joy at sight of the 
meat he had brought, while even the haggard 
face of their mother was lighted by a fleeting 
smile. 

For the pleasure of seeing the children eat 
Cabot toasted a few strips of venison over the 
coals, and these smelled so good that he cut off 


OBJECTS OF CHARITY. 


239 


some more for himself. In this occupation he 
spent another hour without realising the flight 
of time, and had eaten a quantity of meat that 
he would have deemed impossible had it all been 
placed before him at once. 

As he was bending over the fire toasting a strip 
that he said to himself should be the last, a slight 
cry from one of the children caused him to look 
up. He barely caught a glimpse of a face at the 
entrance as it was hastily withdrawn, but in that 
moment he recognised the features of Arsenic. 
At sight of the ill-favoured young Indian all of 
Cabot’s former resentment flamed up, and 
springing to his feet he dashed from the tent, 
determined to give Arsenic the thrashing he 
deserved. 

Of course Cabot had removed his snowshoes, 
but, as the young Indian had done the same 
thing, both were compelled to readjust these all- 
important articles, without which they would 
have floundered helplessly in the deep snow. 

Arsenic was off first, and though Cabot chased 
him hotly he could not overcome the advantage 
thus gained. Being also much less expert in the 
management of snowshoes, he tripped several 
times, and finally pitched headlong. When he 
next regained his feet Arsenic had disappeared 
in the timber, and our lad realised the futility of 
a further pursuit. How, too, he noticed that the 


240 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


sky had become heavily overcast, and that a 
strong wind was soughing ominously through the 
tree tops. 

"It must be later than I thought/’ he re- 
flected, “ and high time for me to be getting back 
to camp.” With this he hastily gathered a 
bundle of sticks to be used as firewood and 
started, as he supposed, towards the open; but so 
confused was he, and so many turns did he make, 
that more than half an hour was wasted before 
he finally emerged from the timber. Here he 
was dismayed to find that snow was falling, or 
rather being driven in straight lines by the wind, 
which had increased to the force of a gale. 

“ I’ve got to hump myself to reach camp be- 
fore dark, but I’ll make it all right,” he remarked 
to himself, as he set forth across the white plain. 

He took a diagonal course that he hoped would 
lead him to the trail, but by the time all land- 
marks were obliterated by the descending night 
he had failed to find it. In looking back he 
could not even distinguish the timber line from 
which he had come. Then the awful conviction 
slowly forced itself upon him that he was lost in 
a trackless wilderness, swept by the first fury of 
an Arctic blizzard. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


LOST IN A BLIZZAKD. 

So numbed was our poor lad by the shock of 
his discovery that, for a few moments, he stood 
motionless. Of course it would be of no use to 
continue his hopeless struggle. Even if he had 
come in the right direction he must ere this have 
passed the place where his companions were en- 
camped. If he could only regain the timber 
there might be a slight chance of surviving the 
night; but even its location was lost to him, and 
a certain death stared him in the face. At any 
rate it would be a painless ending, for he had 
only to lie down to be quickly covered by a soft' 
blanket of snow. Then he could go to sleep 
never again to waken. He was very weary, and 
already so drowsy that the thought of sleep was 
pleasant to him. Such a death would certainly 
not be so terrible as drowning after a hopeless 
struggle with black waters. 

With this thought every incident of that awful 
night after the loss of the “ Lavinia ” flashed 
into his mind. How utterly hopeless had seemed 
16 


242 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


his situation then and how desperately he had 
fought for his life. But he had fought, and had 
won the fight. What was the use of learning a 
lesson of that kind if he could not profit by it? 
Was not his life as well worth fighting for now 
as then? Of course it was; nor was his present 
position any more hopeless than that one had 
been. Then he had drifted with the wind, and 
now he would do the same thing. If he could 
hold out long enough he would fetch up some- 
where sometime. It was merely a question of 
endurance. Even in that howling wilderness, 
with death on all sides, there were still three 
chances for life. The drift with the wind might 
take him to the igloo that Yim must have built 
ere this. How bright, and warm, and cosey its 
lamplighted interior would be. How glad they 
would be to see him, and how he would laugh 
at all his recent fears. But of course there 
was not one chance in a million of his find- 
ing the igloo. It was not at all unlikely, though, 
that the drift might take him to a belt of timber, 
into which the bitter wind could not penetrate, 
and where he could crawl under the thick, low- 
hanging branches of some tent-like spruce. Even 
such a shelter now seemed very desirable, and 
would be accepted with thankfulness. If he 
failed to reach timber, the wind might blow him 
to some region of cliffs and rocks that would shel- 


LOST IN A BLIZZARD. 


243 


ter him from its cutting blasts. If he missed all 
these chances, and if worse came to worst, he 
could always go to sleep beneath the snow blan- 
ket, and it would be better to do that with the 
consciousness of having made a good fight than 
to yield now like a coward. 

All these thoughts flashed through Cabot’s 
mind within the space of a minute, and, having 
determined to fight until the battle was either 
won or lost, he flung away his now useless bur- 
den of firewood and started off down the wind. 
Tramping through that newly fallen snow, even 
with the support of racquets, was exhausting 
work, but the effort at least kept him warm, and, 
before he came to the end of his strength, some 
hours later, he had covered a number of miles. 
He had also come to the least promising of the 
three places he had hoped for, and found him- 
self in a region of cliffs, precipices, and huge 
rocks, among which he could no longer make 
headway, even though he had not reached the 
limit of endurance. 

But he had reached that limit, and now only 
sought a spot in which he might lie down and go 
to sleep. Of course the snow would quickly 
cover him, and doubtless he would be buried deep 
ere the fury of the storm was past. But he had 
a vague plan for putting his snowshoes over his 
head like an inverted V, and hoped in that way 


244 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


to be kept from smothering. At the same time 
he had little thought that he should ever see the 
light of another day. 

“ Only a bit further and then I can rest,” he 
muttered, as he pushed into the blackness of a 
rift between two tall cliffs, and experienced a par- 
tial relief from the furious wind. It seemed as 
though he ought to penetrate this as far as pos- 
sible, and so he struggled weakly forward. Then 
he stumbled over something that lay across his 
path and fell heavily. As he lay wondering 
whether an attempt to regain his feet would be 
worth while, he seemed to hear the distant but 
strenuous ringing of an electric bell, and almost 
smiled at the absurdity of such a fancy in such a 
place. The thought carried him back to the elec- 
trical laboratory of the Institute, and he began 
to dream that he was still a student of ohms, 
volts, and amperes. 

In another moment his consciousness would 
have been wholly merged in dreams, but sud- 
denly the place where he lay was filled with a 
blaze of light that apparently streamed from the 
solid rock on either side. So intense was this 
light that it penetrated even Cabot’s closed eyes, 
and aroused him from the stupor into which he 
had fallen. He lifted his head, and, still be- 
wildered, wondered why the laboratory was so 
brilliantly illuminated. 


LOST IN A BLIZZARD. 


245 


Then, through the glare, he saw the driving 
snow-flakes with their dancing shadows magni- 
fied a hundred fold, and, all at once, he remem- 
bered. Staggering to his feet, and groping with 
outstretched arms, he pushed forward along the 
narrow pathway outlined by the mysterious light. 
He no longer heard the sound of bells, but in its 
place came strains of music that blended weirdly 
with the shrieking wind, and irresistibly com- 
pelled him forward. The pathway sloped down- 
ward and then took a sharp turn. As Cabot 
passed this the light behind him was extinguished 
as suddenly as it had appeared, the wild music 
sounded louder than ever, and directly in front 
of him gleamed two squares of light like win- 
dows. Between them was a dark space, towards 
which he instinctively stumbled. It proved to 
be as he had hoped, a door massive and without 
any means of unclosing that his blind fumblings 
could discover. So he beat against it feebly and 
uttered a hoarse cry for help. In another mo- 
ment it was opened, and Cabot, leaning heavily 
against it, fell into a room, small, warm, and 
brightly lighted. 

Bor a few minutes he lay with closed eyes, 
barely conscious that his struggle for life had 
been successful, and that in some mysterious 
manner he had gained a place of safety. Gradu- 
ally he became aware that some one was bending 


246 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


over him, and opening his eyes he gazed full 
into a face that he instantly recognised, though 
it had sadly changed since he last saw it. At 
that time it had expressed strength in every 
line, but now it was haggard and worn by suffer- 
ing. 

u The Man-wolf ! ” gasped Cabot, in a voice 
hardly above a whisper. 

A slight smile flitted across the man’s face, and 
then, without warning, he sank to the floor in a 
dead faint. His mighty strength had been 
turned to the weakness of water, and the iron 
will had at length relaxed its hold upon the en- 
feebled body. As the man-wolf fell, a stream 
of blood trickled from his mouth, and he choked 
for breath as though strangling. 

There is nothing so effective in restoring spent 
strength as a demand upon it from one who is 
weaker, and at sight of the big man’s helplessness 
Cabot was instantly nerved to renewed effort. 
He sat up, cut loose his snowshoes, closed the 
open door, and rid himself of his snow-laden 
outer garments. Then, by a supreme effort, he 
managed to drag the unconscious man to a bed 
that was piled with robes and lean him against 
it. His eyes had already lighted on a jug of 
water, and fetching this he bathed the sufferer’s 
face, washed the blood from his mouth, and 
finally had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes un- 


LOST IN A BLIZZARD. 


247 


close. Then he helped him on to the bed, and 
though during the operation the man’s face ex- 
pressed the most intense pain, he uttered no 
sound. But the movement was accompanied by 
another hemorrhage, so severe that it seemed to 
our distressed lad as though the man must surely 
bleed to death before it was checked. When it 
finally ceased the exhausted sufferer dropped 
asleep, and, for the first time since entering that 
place of mysteries, Cabot found an opportunity 
for looking about him. 

Although the room was small it was comfort- 
ably furnished with a table, chairs — one of which 
was a rocker — a lounge, and the bed on which 
the man-wolf lay. There were no windows nor 
doors except those in front. The ceiling was of 
heavy canvas tightly stretched, while the walls 
were hung with the skins of fur-bearing animals, 
and the floor was covered with rugs of the same 
material. At first Cabot paid no attention to 
these details, for his eyes were fixed upon the 
most astonishing thing he had seen in all Labra- 
dor. It was a lamp that, depending from the 
ceiling, gave to the room an illumination as bril- 
liant as daylight. 

“ Electric, as I live ! ” gasped the young engi- 
neer. “ A regular incandescent, and those lights 
out on the trail must have been the same. That 
was an electric bell too. I know it now, though 


248 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


I couldn’t believe my ears at the time. The 
light he scared the Indians with must have been 
an electric flash, worked by a storage battery. 
But it is all so incredible! I wonder if I am 
really awake or still dreaming? ” 

To assure himself on this point Cabot went to 
the light, and, as he did so, came upon another 
surprise greater than any that had preceded it. 
He had wondered at the comfortable tempera- 
ture of the room, for there was nowhere a fire to 
be seen, and the blizzard still howled outside with 
unabated fury. How, on drawing near to the 
lamp, he found himself also approaching some 
heretofore unobserved source of heat, which he 
discovered to be a drum of sheet iron. It stood 
by itself, unconnected with any chimney, and 
apparently had no receptacle for any form of 
fuel, solid, liquid, or gaseous. 

“ A Balfour electric heater,” murmured Ca- 
bot, in an awe-stricken tone, “ and I didn’t even 
know they had been perfected. I don’t suppose 
there are half-a-dozen in use in all the world, and 
yet here is one of them doing its full duty up here 
in the Labrador wilderness, a thousand miles 
from anywhere. It is fully equal to any tale of 
the Arabian Hights, and Mr. Homolupus must, 
as the natives say, be either a god or a devil. I do 
wonder who he is, where he came from, what has 
happened to him, where he gets his electricity, 


LOST IN A BLIZZARD . 


249 


and a thousand other things. I wish he would 
wake up, and I wish he could talk.” 

Cabot’s curiosity concerning the weird music 
that had drawn him to that place had been par- 
tially satisfied by the discovery of a violin on the 
floor beside the sick man’s bed. Now, as he flung 
himself wearily down on the lounge for a bit of 
rest, he became conscious of the muffled b-r-r-r 
of a dynamo. That accounted in a measure for 
the electric lights, but still left our lad in a daze 
of wonder at the nature of his surroundings. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


AN ELECTRICIAN IN THE WILDERNESS. 

When Cabot threw himself down on that 
lounge he fully intended to remain awake, or at 
most to take only a series of short naps, always 
holding himself in readiness to assist the sufferer 
on the opposite side of the room. But exhausted 
nature proved too much for his good intentions, 
and he had hardly lain down before he fell into 
a dead, dreamless sleep that lasted for many 
hours. When he next awoke it was with a start, 
and he sat up bewildered by the strangeness of 
his environment. Daylight was streaming in at 
the frost-covered windows and the storm of the 
night before had evidently spent its fury. 

Almost the first thing he saw was the tall form 
of his host bending feebly over the electric stove. 
His face was drawn with pain, and he was so 
weak that he was compelled to support himself 
by grasping the table with one hand while with 
the other he stirred the contents of a simmering 
kettle. 

“ Let me do that, sir! ” cried Cabot, springing 


AN ELECTRICIAN. 


251 


to his feet. “ You are not fit to be out of your 
bed, and I am perfectly familiar with the man- 
agement of electrical cooking apparatus, though 
I don’t know much about cooking itself.” 

The man hesitated a moment, and then per- 
mitted the other to lead him back to his bed, on 
which he sank with a groan. Here Cabot made 
him as comfortable as possible before turning his 
attention to the stove. On it he found two 
kettles, each having its own wire connections, in 
one of which was boiling water while the other 
contained a meat stew. On the table was a box 
of tea, a bowl of sugar, and a plate heaped with 
hard bread. Finding other dishes in a cupboard, 
Cabot made a pot of tea, turned off the electric 
current, and served breakfast. Before eating a 
mouthful himself he prepared a bowl of broth 
for his patient, which the latter managed to swal- 
low after many attempts and painful effort. 

Cabot ate ravenously, and, after his meal, felt 
once more ready to face any number of difficul- 
ties. First he went to the bedside of his host 
and said: 

“ How, Mr. Homolupus, I want to find out 
what is the trouble and what I can do for you. 
Are you wounded, or just naturally ill? ” 

The man looked at his questioner for a mo- 
ment, as though he were on the point of speak- 
ing. Then he seemed to change his mind, and, 


252 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


reaching for a pencil and pad that lay close at 
hand, he wrote: 

“ I am shot in the chest.” 

“ Who — I mean how ” began Cabot, and 

then, realising that his curiosity could well wait, 
he added: “ But, with your permission, I will ex- 
amine the wound and see if there is anything I 
can do.” 

With this he sought and gently removed a 
blood-soaked bandage, thereby disclosing a sight 
so ghastly that it almost unnerved him. The 
wound was so terrible, and the loss of blood from 
it had evidently been so great, that how even 
the giant frame of the man-wolf could have sur- 
vived it was amazing. Having no knowledge of 
surgery, Cabot could only bathe and rebandage 
it. Then he said : 

“ How, I am going to be your nurse, and you 
must lie perfectly still without attempting to get 
up again until I give you leave.” 

Seeing an expression of dissent in the man’s 
face, he continued: 

“ It’s all right. I am under the greatest of 
obligations to you, and am only too glad of a 
chance to pay some of it back. So I shall stay 
right here just as long as you need me. Fortu- 
nately I know something about both electricity 
and machinery, having been educated at a tech- 
nical institute, so that I shall be able to manage 


AN ELECTRICIAN 


253 


very well with your plant. But I do wish you 
could explain a few things to me. Is your name 
really 1 Homolupus ’ ? ” 

The sufferer smiled and wrote on his pad: 

“ My name is Watson Balfour.” 

“ Of London? ” queried Cabot. 

The man nodded. 

“Is it possible that you can be Watson Balfour, 
the celebrated English electrician, who is sup- 
posed to have been lost at sea some years 
ago?” 

Again the man smiled and made a sign of 
assent. 

Eor a moment Cabot stared, well nigh speech- 
less with the wonder and excitement of this dis- 
covery. Then he broke into a torrent of excla- 
mations and questions. 

“ Why, Mr. Balfour, I know you so well by re- 
putation that you seem like an old friend. Your 
‘ Handbook of Electricity ’ and your ‘ Compara- 
tive Voltage ’ are text books at the Institute. 
The whole scientific world mourned your sup- 
posed death. But how do you happen to be up 
here, and how have you managed to establish an 
electric plant in this wilderness? Why are you 
masquerading as a man- wolf ? How did you lose 
the power of speech? How did you become so 
severely wounded? Can’t you tell me some of 
these things? ” 


2 54 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


For answer Mr. Balfour wrote: “ Perhaps, 
some time. Tell first how you came here.” 

So Cabot, forced to curb for the present his 
own overpowering curiosity, sat down and told of 
all that had happened since the departure of the 
man-wolf from Locked Harbour. When he had 
finished he said : 

“ And now, I ought to go outside and see if I 
can discover any trace of my companions, who 
must be awfully cut up over my disappearance. 
But don’t be uneasy, Mr. Balfour, I shan’t go far, 
and whether I find them or not I shall certainly 
come back to stay just as long as 'you need me. 
I hope you will sleep while I am gone, and I wish 
you would promise not to leave your bed, or move 
more than is absolutely necessary, before my 
return.” 

When Cabot first stepped outside the shelter 
that had proved such a haven of safety to him, 
he was dazzled by the brilliancy of the day. 
After becoming somewhat accustomed to the 
glare of sunlight on new-fallen snow, he turned 
to see what sort of a house he had just left. To 
his surprise there was no house; the only sug- 
gestion of one being two windows and a door 
set in a wall of rock that was built at the base of 
a cliff. 

“ It is a cavern,” thought Cabot, “ and that is 
the reason the room is so easily kept warm. 







* ' 




































































































AN ELECTRICIAN 


257 


Mighty good thing to have in this country, espe- 
cially when it is lined with furs.” 

The snow lay unbroken, and there was no sign 
of the trail he had made the night before. For 
a short distance, however, he could go in but one 
direction, for the only way out was through the 
narrow defile by which he had entered. At its 
mouth he found the wire over which he had fal- 
len, and thereby given notice of his approach by 
causing the ringing of an electric bell. 

“ When he heard it he turned on the lights,” 
said Cabot to himself. “ It’s a great scheme for 
scaring off Indians and attracting white men. I 
wonder if any other person ever found the place? 
What a marvellous thing my stumbling on it was, 
anyhow. How, which way did I come? ” 
Gazing blankly at the surrounding chaos of 
snow-covered rocks, our lad could form no idea 
of the route by which he had been led to that 
place, through the storm and darkness of the 
preceding night, nor of how he might leave it. 

“ There is no use wandering aimlessly,” he de- 
cided at length, “ and I’ll either have to gain a 
bird’s-eye view of the country or get Mr. Balfour 
to make me a map. To think that I should have 
discovered him, and here of all places in the 
world. What a sensation it will make when I 
tell of it. Of course I shall do so, for I’ll get 
out of this fix all right somehow. What a state 
17 


258 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


of mind poor White must be in this morning. I 
know I should be in his place. He’s all right, 
though, with Yim to pull him through, and 
they’ll make Indian Harbour easy enough. Then 
I shall be reported lost, and after a while Mr. 
Hepburn will hear the news. Wonder what he 
thinks has become of me anyhow? I am follow- 
ing out instructions, and wintering in Labrador 
fast enough. Only I don’t seem to have much 
time to investigate mining properties, and of 
course it’s no use trying to find ’em buried under 
feet of snow. Perhaps Mr. Balfour has discov- 
ered some while roaming around the country as 
a man-wolf. How absurd to think of c Voltage ’ 
Balfour as a man- wolf ! Wonder why he did it? 
How I wish he could talk! Wonder why he 
can’t? ” 

While thus cogitating, Cabot had also been 
climbing a nearby eminence that promised a 
view of the outlying country, but from it he 
could see nothing save other hills rising still 
higher and an unbroken waste of snow. 

“ It’s no use,” he sighed. “ I don’t believe I 
could find them, even if I had plenty of time. 
As it is, I don’t dare stay away from Mr. Balfour 
any longer. I’m afraid he’s a very sick man, 
with a slim chance of ever pulling through.” 

So Cabot, after an absence of several hours, 
turned back towards the snug shelter so provi- 


AN ELECTRICIAN. 


259 


dentially provided for him, and for which he was 
just then more grateful than he could express. 
He was thinking of the many wonders of the 
place when he reached its door; but, as he opened 
it and stepped inside the room, he was greeted 
by a greater surprise than he had yet encoun- 
tered. Nothing was changed about the interior, 
and the wounded man lay as Cabot had left him, 
but with the appearance of the latter he ex- 
claimed : 

“ Thank God, dear lad, that you have come 
back to me! It seemed as though I should go 
crazy if left alone a minute longer.” 

Cabot stared in amazement. “ Is it a mir- 
acle?” he finally asked, “ and has your speech 
been restored to you, or have you been able to 
speak all the time ? ” 

“ I have been able, but not willing,” was the 
reply. “ I had thought to die without speaking 
to a human being. I even avoided my fellows, 
believing myself sufficient unto myself. But 
God has punished my arrogance and shown me 
my weakness. Until you came no stranger has 
ever set foot within this dwelling, to none have 
I spoken, and not even to you did I intend to 
speak, but with your going my folly became 
plain. I feared you might never return; the 
horror of living alone, and the greater horror of 
dying alone, swept over me. Then I prayed for 


260 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


you to come. I promised to speak as soon as 
you were within hearing. Every moment since 
then I have watched for you and longed for your 
coming as a dying man longs for the breath of 
life. Promise that you will not leave me again.” 

“ I have already promised, and now I repeat, 
that I will not leave you so long as you have need 
of me,” replied Cabot. “ But tell me ” 

“ I will tell you everything,” interrupted the 
wounded man, “ but first you must look after the 
dynamo. It has stopped, and if you cannot set 
it going again we must both perish.” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


THE MAN- WOLF’S STORY. 

An accident to the dynamo in that place where 
there was no fuel, and electricity must be de- 
pended upon for light and heat, was so serious 
a matter that, for a moment, even Cabot’s curi- 
osity concerning his host was merged in anxiety. 

“ Where shall I find it? ” he asked. 

“ In the cavern back of this room. The door- 
way is behind that bearskin. This upper row of 
keys connects with the storage battery, and the 
second key controls the lights of the dynamo 
room. If there is a bad break I can manage to 
get to it, but I wouldn’t try until you came, be- 
cause I promised not to move.” 

All this was said in a voice that faltered from 
weakness, and a wave of pity surged in Cabot’s 
breast as he realised how dependent upon him 
this man, so recently a mental as well as a physi- 
cal giant, had become. 

“ I expect I shall be able to attend to it all 
right,” he said decisively, as he turned on the 
stored current that would light the unknown 


262 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


cavern. “ At any rate, I shall be able to report 
the condition of things, so that you can advise me 
what to do, or else my training is a greater failure 
than I think.” 

With this he lifted the bearskin, opened a door 
thus disclosed, and found himself in a small, well- 
lighted cavern that was at once a dynamo room, 
a workshop, and a storehouse for a confused mis- 
cellany of articles. Without pausing to investi- 
gate any of these he went directly to a dynamo 
that had been set up at one side and examined it 
carefully. It appeared in perfect order, and the 
trouble must evidently be sought elsewhere. 

Cabot had wondered by what power the dy- 
namo was driven, and now, hearing a sound of 
running water, he stepped in that direction. A 
short distance away he discovered a swift-flow- 
ing subterranean stream, in which revolved a 
water wheel of rude, but serviceable, construc- 
tion. As nothing seemed wrong with it, he was 
obliged to look further, and finally found the 
cause of trouble to be a transmitting belt, the 
worn-out lacing of which had parted. As por- 
tions of the belt itself had been caught in the 
pulleys and badly cut, it was necessary to hunt 
through the pile of material for a new one, and 
for leather suitable for lacing. Then the new 
belt must be accurately measured, laced together, 
and adjusted to its pulleys. 


THE MAN-WOLF'S STORY. 


263 


Although the temperature of the cavern was 
many degrees above that of the outside air, it was 
still so low that Cabot worked slowly and with 
numbed fingers. Thus more than an hour had 
elapsed before the dynamo was again in running 
order, and he was at liberty to return to the liv- 
ing room. In the meantime his curiosity con- 
cerning this strange place of abode and its myste- 
rious tenant was increased by the remarkable 
collection of articles stored on all sides. There 
was no end of machinery, tools, and electrical 
apparatus of all kinds, including miles of copper 
wire and chemicals for charging batteries. Be- 
sides these, there were ropes, canvas, furniture, 
boxes, barrels, and other things too numerous to 
mention. 

“ What a prize this place would have been for 
the Indians if they had ever discovered it,” re- 
flected the young engineer. “ I wonder that he 
dared go off and leave it unguarded.” 

When he finally returned to the outer room, 
he found it even colder than the cavern in which 
he had been working, and realised, as never be- 
fore, the value of the knowledge that had en- 
abled him to restore the usefulness of that 
electric heater. After getting it into operation, 
and making his report to the sick man, who had 
impatiently awaited him, there was another meal 
to prepare. 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


264 

So, in spite of Cabot’s overwhelming desire to 
hear Mr. Balfour’s story, there was so much to 
be done first that the short day had merged into 
another night before the opportunity arrived. 
When it came, our lad drew a chair to the bed- 
side of his patient and said: 

“Now, sir, if you feel able to talk, and are 
willing to tell me how you happen to be living 
in this place, I shall be more than glad to 
listen.” 

“ I am willing,” replied the other, “ but must 
be brief, since talking has become an exertion. 
As perhaps you know, I was a working electrician 
in London, where, though I had a good business, 
I had not accumulated much money. Conse- 
quently I was greatly pleased to receive what 
promised to be a lucrative contract from a Cana- 
dian railway company for supplying and instal- 
ling a quantity of electrical apparatus along their 
line. I at once invested every penny I could 
raise in the purchase of material and in the char- 
ter of a sailing vessel to transport it to this 
country. On the eve of sailing I married a 
young lady to whom I had long been engaged, 
and, with light hearts, we set forth on our wed- 
ding trip across the Atlantic. 

“ The first two weeks of that voyage were filled 
with such happiness that I trembled for fear it 
should be snatched from me. During that time 


THE MAN- WOLF'S STORY. 


265 


we had fair weather and favouring winds. Then 
we ran into a gale that lasted for days, and drove 
us far out of our course. One mast went by the 
board, the other was cut away to save the ship, 
and, while in this helpless condition, she struck 
at night, what I afterwards learned to be, a mass 
of floating ice. At the time all hands believed 
us to be on the coast, and the crew, taking our 
only seaworthy boat, put off in a panic, while I 
was below preparing my wife for departure. 
Thus deserted, we awaited the death that we 
expected with each passing moment, but it failed 
to come and the ship still floated. With earliest 
daylight I was on deck, and, to my amazement, 
saw land on both sides. We had been driven 
into the mouth of a broad estuary, up which wind 
and tide were still carrying us. 

“ For three days our helpless drift, to and fro, 
was continued, and then our ship grounded on a 
ledge at the foot of these cliffs. Getting ashore 
with little difficulty, we were dismayed to find 
ourselves in an uninhabited wilderness, devoid 
even of vegetation other than moss and low grow- 
ing shrubs. One of my first discoveries was this 
cavern with its subterranean stream of water, 
and two openings, one of which gives easy access 
to the sea. Knowing that our ship must, sooner 
or later, go to pieces, and desirous of saving 
what property I might, I rigged up a derrick at 


266 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


the mouth of the cavern, and, with the aid of my 
brave wife, transferred everything movable 
from the wreck; a labour of months. 

“Winter was now at hand, and, foreseeing 
that we must spend it where we were, I walled 
up the openings and made all possible prepara- 
tions to fight the coming cold. We burned wood 
from the wreck while it lasted, and in the mean- 
time I labored almost night and day at the es- 
tablishment of an electric plant. But the awful 
winter came and found it still unfinished, and 
before the coming of another spring I was left 
alone.” 

Here the speaker paused, overcome as much 
by his feelings as by weakness, and, during the 
silence that followed, Cabot stole away, osten- 
sibly to see that the dynamo was running 
smoothly. When lie returned the narrator had 
recovered his calmness, and was ready to con- 
tinue his story. 

“ She had never been strong,” he said, “ and 
I so cruelly allowed her to overwork herself that 
she had no strength left with which to fight the 
winter. She died in my arms in this very room, 
and I promised never to leave her. Also, after 
her death, I vowed that my last words to her 
should be my last to any human being, and, until 
this day, I have kept that vow, foolish and wicked 
though it was. I have talked and read aloud 


THE MAN-WOLF'S STORY. 


267 


when alone, but to. no man have I spoken. I 
have also avoided intercourse with my fellows, 
selfishly preferring to nurse my sorrow in sinful 
rebellion against God’s will. Now am I justly 
punished by being stricken down in the pride of 
my strength. At the same time God has shown 
his everlasting mercy by sending you to me in 
the time of my sore need. And you have pro- 
mised to stay with me until the end, which I feel 
assured is not far off.” 

“ I trust it may be,” said Cabot, “ for the world 
can ill afford to spare a man of your attain- 
ments.” 

“ The world has forgotten me ere this,” replied 
Mr. Balfour, with a faint smile, “ and has also 
managed to get along very well without me. 
Whether it has or has not I feel that I am shortly 
to rejoin my dear one.” 

“ How did it happen? I mean your wound,” 
asked Cabot, abruptly changing the subject. 
“ Was it an accident? ” 

“ It may have been, but I believe not. 
Dressed in wolf skins, I was creeping up on a 
small herd of caribou two days ago, when I was 
shot by some unknown person, probably an In- 
dian hunting the same game, though I never saw 
him. I managed to crawl home, and as I lay 
here, filled with the horror of dying alone, the 
ringing of my alarm bell announced a coming 


268 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


of either man or beast. I found strength to turn 
on the outer lights and to sound a call for aid 
on my violin that I hoped would be heard and 
understood.” 

“ It was fortunate for me that you did both 
those things,” said Cabot, “ for I should certainly 
have remained where I fell after stumbling over 
the wire if it had not been for the combination 
of light and music. But tell me, sir, why have 
you masqueraded as a man-wolf? ” 

“ For convenience in hunting, as well as to in- 
spire terror in the minds of savages and keep 
them at a respectful distance from this place.” 

“ Have they ever troubled you? ” 

“ At first they were inclined to, but not of late 
years.” 

“Not of late years! Why, sir, how many 
years have you dwelt in this place? ” 

“ A little more than five.” 

“ Five years alone and cut off from the world! 
I should think you would feel like a prisoner shut 
in a dungeon.” 

“ No, for I have led the life of my own choice, 
and it has been full of active interests. I have 
had to hunt, trap, and fish for my own support. 
I have tried to redress some wrongs, and have 
been able to relieve much distress among the 
improvident natives. I have busied myself with 
electrical experiments, and have explored the 


THE MAN-WOLF'S STORY. 


269 


surrounding country for a hundred miles on all 
sides.” 

“ Have you discovered any indications of 
mineral wealth during your explorations?” asked 
the young engineer, recalling his previous 
thought on this subject. 

“ Quite a number, of which the most important 
is right here ; for this range of cliffs is so largely 
composed of red hematite as to form one of the 
richest ore beds in the world.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


CABOT IS LEFT ALONE. 

Deeply interested and affected as Cabot bad 
been by the electrician’s story, his excitement 
over its conclusion caused him momentarily to 
forget everything else. 

“ Does the ore show anywhere about here ? ” 
he asked eagerly. 

“ Yes. Lift one of the skins hanging against 
the wall and you will find it. It is better, though, 
in the lower portions of the inner cavern, for the 
deeper you go the richer it gets.” 

In another moment our young engineer was 
chipping bits of rock from the nearest wall, and 
then he must need explore those of the store- 
room, where, on a bank of the subterranean 
stream, he found ore as rich as any he had ever 
seen, even in museums. Returning with hands 
and pockets full of specimens, he said: 

“ This is the very thing for which I came to 
Labrador, but have thus far failed to find. Of 
course I have discovered plenty of indications, 
for the whole country is full of iron, but nowhere 


CABOT IS LEFT ALONE. 


271 


else have I found it in quantity or of a quality 
that would pay to work. Here you have both, 
and close to a navigable waterway . 77 

“ On which the largest ships may moor to the 
very cliffs / 7 added Mr. Balfour. 

“ It means a fortune to the owner, and I con- 
gratulate you, sir . 77 

“ My dear lad, I don 7 t want it ! I am an elec- 
trician, not a miner. Even if I were inclined to 
work it, which I am not, I should not be per- 
mitted to do so, for my earthly interests are very 
nearly ended. Therefore I cheerfully relinquish 
in your favour whatever claim I may have ac- 
quired by discovery or occupation. If you want 
it, take it, and may God 7 s blessing go with the 
gift. Also, under this bed, you will find a bag 
containing more specimens that may interest 
you. Of them we will talk at another time, for 
now I am weary . 77 

With this the man turned his face to the wall, 
while Cabot, securing the bag, quickly became 
absorbed in an examination of its contents. 
Among these he found rich specimens of iron and 
copper ores, slabs of the rare and exquisitely 
beautiful Labradorite, with its sheen of peacock- 
blue, and even bits of gold-bearing quartz. For 
a long time he examined and tested these ; then, 
with a sigh of content, he laid them aside and 
went to bed. His mission to Labrador was at 


272 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


length accomplished, and now he had only to 
get back to New York as quickly as possible. 

But getting to New York from that place, 
under existing circumstances, was something in- 
finitely easier to plan than to accomplish. To 
begin with, he had promised to remain with the 
new-found friend, who was also so greatly his 
benefactor, so long as he should be needed, and 
he meant to fulfil the promise to the letter. But 
to do so taxed his patience to the utmost; for, in 
spite of the electrician’s belief that he had not 
long to live, the passing of many weeks found 
his condition but little changed. At the same 
time, in spite of Cabot’s best nursing and cease- 
less attention, he failed to gain strength. 

Having once broken his years of silence, he 
now found his greatest pleasure in talking, and 
Cabot had frequently to interrupt his conversa- 
tion on the pretence of taking outside exercise, 
to prevent him from exhausting himself in that 
way. He hated to do this, for Hr. Balfour’s 
words were always instructive, and he so freely 
yielded the established secrets of his profession, 
as well as those of his own recent discoveries, to 
his young friend that Cabot acquired a rich store 
of valuable information during the short days 
and long nights of that Labrador winter. 

With the apparatus at hand, he was able to 
conduct many experiments and put into practice 


CABOT IS LEFT ALONE. 


273 


a number of his newly acquired theories. The 
sick man followed these with keenest interest, 
and aided his pupil with shrewd suggestions. At 
other times they discussed the mineral wealth of 
Labrador, and Mr. Balfour drew rough diagrams 
to show localities from which his various speci- 
mens had been brought. He also gave much 
time to a sketch map of the surrounding country, 
especially the coast between the place where the 
“ Sea Bee ” had been left and Indian Harbour, 
beyond which his knowledge did not extend. 

With these congenial occupations, time never 
hung heavily in the wilderness home of the Man- 
wolf, and, though bitter cold might reign out- 
side, fierce storms rage, and driving snows pile 
themselves into mountainous drifts, neither hun- 
ger nor cold could penetrate its snug interior, 
warmed and lighted by the magic of modern 
science. With the passing weeks the old year 
died and a new one was born. January merged 
into February, and days began noticeably to 
lengthen. Through all these weeks Cabot kept 
up his strength by frequent exercise in the open, 
where, in conflict with storm and cold, he ever 
won some part of their own ruggedness. At the 
same time his patient grew slowly but surely 
weaker, until at length he could converse only 
in whispers, and experienced such difficulty in 
swallowing that he had almost ceased to take 
18 


274 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


nourishment. One evening while affairs stood 
thus, he roused himself sufficiently to inquire 
what day of the month it was. 

“ The thirteenth of February,” replied Cabot, 
who had kept careful note of the calendar. 

Instantly the man brightened, and said, with 
an unexpected strength of voice : “ Six years to- 
morrow since we were married. Five years to- 
day since she left me, and to-night I shall rejoin 
her. Wish me joy, lad, for the long period of 
our separation is ended. Good-night, good-bye, 
God bless you! ” 

With this final utterance he again lapsed into 
silence, closed his eyes, and seemed to sleep. 
Several times during that night Cabot stole softly 
to his patient’s bedside, but the latter was always 
asleep, and he would not disturb him. Only in 
the morning, when daylight revealed the marble- 
like repose of feature, did he kmvw that a glad 
reunion of long parted lovers had been effected, 
and that it was he who was left alone. 

Although the position in which our lad now 
found himself was a very trying one, he had an- 
ticipated and planned for it. He had no boards 
with which to make a coffin, but there was plenty 
of stout canvas, and in a double thickness of this 
he sewed the body of his friend. Before doing 
so he dug away the snow beside a cairn of rocks 
that marked the last resting place of her who 


CABOT IS LEFT ALONE. 


275 


had gone before, and placed the electric heater, 
with extended wire connections, on the ground 
thus exposed. Within a few hours this soil be- 
came sufficiently thawed to permit him to dig a 
shallow grave, to which, by great effort, he man- 
aged to remove the shrouded body. After cover- 
ing it, and piling above it rocks as large as he 
could lift, he returned to the empty dwelling, 
having completed the hardest and saddest day’s 
work of his life. 

So terrible was the loneliness of that night, 
and so anxious was Cabot to take his departure, 
that he was again astir long before daylight, com- 
pleting his preparations. He had previously 
built a light sled that he proposed to drag, and 
had planned exactly what it should carry. How 
he loaded this with a canvas-wrapped package of 
cooked provisions, a sleeping bag, a rifle to- 
gether with a few rounds of ammunition, a light 
axe, his precious bag of specimens, and the Man- 
wolf’s electric flashlight with its battery newly 
charged. 

With everything thus in readiness he ate a 
hearty meal, threw the dynamo out of gear, 
closed the door and shutters of the place that 
had given him the shelter of a home, adjusted 
the hauling straps of his sled, and set resolutely 
forth on his venturesome journey across the 
frozen wilderness. 


276 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


In his mittened hands Cabot carried a stout 
staff tipped with a boathook, and this proved of 
inestimable service in aiding him down the face 
of the cliffs to the frozen surface of the estuary; 
for, by Mr. Balfour’s advice, he had determined 
to follow the coast line rather than attempt the 
shorter but more uncertain inland route. 

Although the distance to be covered was but 
little over one hundred miles, the journey was 
so beset with difficulties and hardships that only 
our young engineer’s splendid physical condition 
and recently acquired skill, combined with in- 
domitable pluck, enabled him to accomplish it. 
While he sometimes met with smooth stretches 
of snow-covered ice, it was generally piled in 
huge wind-rows, incredibly rugged and difficult 
to surmount. Again it would be broken away 
from the base of sheer cliffs, where stretches of 
open water would necessitate toilsome inland de- 
tours over or around lofty headlands. He was 
always buffetted by strong winds, and often 
halted by blinding snowstorms. He had no fire, 
no warm food, and no shelter save such as he 
could make by burrowing into snowdrifts. Dur- 
ing the weary hours of one whole night he held 
a pack of snarling wolves at bay by means of his 
flashlight. But always he pushed doggedly for- 
ward, and after ten days of struggle, exhausted 
almost beyond the power for further effort, but 


CABOT IS LEFT ALONE. 


277 


immensely proud of his achievement, he reached 
the goal of his long desire. 

Indian Harbour — with its hospital, its church, 
its two or three houses, and score of native huts, 
seemed to our lad almost a metropolis after his 
months of wilderness life, and the welcome he 
received from its warm-hearted inhabitants when 
he made known his identity was that of one 
raised from the dead. White Baldwin and Yim 
had been there many weeks earlier, and had re- 
ported his disappearance under circumstances 
that left no hope of his ever again being seen 
alive. Then the latter had set forth on his re- 
turn journey, while White had joined a mail 
carrier and started for Battle Harbour. 

How occurred what promised to be a serious 
interruption to Cabot’s southward advance, for 
no one was proposing to travel in that direction, 
and, in spite of their hospitality, his new acquain- 
tances were not inclined to undertake the ardu- 
ous task of guiding him to Battle Harbour, 250 
miles away, without being well paid for their 
labour, and our young engineer had no money. 
Hor, after his recent experience, did he care to 
again encounter the perils of the wilderness 
alone. 

But fortune once more favoured him; for 
while he was chafing against this enforced de- 
tention, Dr. Graham Aspland, house surgeon of 


278 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


the Battle Harbour Hospital, who makes a heroic 
sledge journey to the far north every winter, ar- 
rived on his annual errand of mercy. He would 
set out on his return trip a few days later, and 
would be more than pleased to have Cabot for a 
companion. 

Thus it happened that one bright day in early 
March the music of sledge bells and the cracking 
of a dog driver’s whip attracted the inmates of 
the Battle Harbour Hospital to doors and win- 
dows to witness an arrival. Two fur-clad figures 
followed a great travelling sledge, and one of 
them dragged a small sled of his own. As he 
came to a halt, and began wearily to loosen his 
hauling gear, he cast a glance at one of the upper 
windows, and uttered an exclamation of amaze- 
ment. Then, with a joyful cry, he shouted: 

“ Hello! White, old man! Bun down here 
and say you’re glad I’ve come ! ” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


DKIFTING- WITH THE ICE PACK. 

Cabot had learned from Dr. Aspland of 
White’s arrival at Battle Harbour two months 
before, with a leg so badly wrenched by slipping 
into an ice crevice that he had gone to the hos- 
pital for treatment, but had expected that he 
would long ere this have taken his departure. At 
the same time White had, of course, given up all 
hope of ever again seeing the friend to whom he 
had become so deeply attached. He had been 
terribly cut up over Cabot’s disappearance on 
the night of the blizzard, and, with the faithful 
Yim, had spent days in searching for him. They 
had gone back to the timber, only to find the In- 
dian camp deserted, and that its recent occupants 
had made a hasty departure. Finally they had 
given over the hopeless search and had sadly con- 
tinued their southward journey. 

How to again behold Cabot alive and well 
filled poor White with such joyful amazement 
that for some minutes he could not frame an in- 
telligent sentence. He flew down to where the 


280 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


new arrival still struggled with his hauling gear, 
and flung himself so impulsively upon him that 
both rolled over in the snow. There, with gasp- 
ing exclamations of delight, they wrestled them- 
selves into a mood of comparative calmness that 
enabled them to regain their feet and begin to 
ask questions. 

For some time White had been sufficiently re- 
covered to resume his journey, had an oppor- 
tunity offered for so doing, but, as none had come 
to him, he had earned his board by acting as 
nurse in the hospital. If he had been anxious to 
depart before, he was doubly so now that he had 
regained his comrade, and Cabot fully shared 
his impatience of further delay. But how they 
were to reach the coast of Newfoundland they 
could not imagine. It would still be many weeks 
before vessels of any kind could be expected at 
Battle Harbour, and they had no money with 
which to undertake the expensive journey by 
way of Quebec. 

“ If only the ocean would freeze over, we could 
walk home! ” exclaimed Cabot one day, as the 
two friends sat gloomily discussing their pros- 
pects. And then that very thing came to pass. 

A dog sledge arrived from Forteau, that same 
evening, bringing a wounded man to the hospital 
for treatment, and its driver reported the Strait 
of Belle Isle as being so solidly packed with ice 


DRIFTING WITH THE ICE PACK. 281 


that several persons had traversed it from shore 
to shore. 

“ If others have made the trip, why can’t we? ” 
cried Cabot. 

“ I am willing to try it, if you are,” replied 
White, and by daylight of the following morning 
the impatient lads were on their way up the coast 
in search of the ice bridge to Newfoundland. 
Cabot had traded his electric flashlight for a 
supply of provisions sufficient to load his sled, 
which they took turns at hauling, and four days 
after leaving Battle Harbour they reached 
L’ Anse au Loup. At that point the strait is only 
a dozen miles wide, and there, if anywhere, they 
could cross it. It was midday when they came 
to the winter huts of L’Anse au Loup, and they 
had intended remaining in one of them over 
night, but a short conversation with its owner 
caused them to change their plans. 

“ Yas, there be solid pack clear to ither side all 
right,” he said, “but happen it ’ll go out any 
time. Fust change o’ wind ’ll loose it, and one’s 
to be looked for. Ah wouldn’t resk it on no ac- 
count mahself, but if Ah had it to do, Ah’d go in 
a hurry ’ithout wasting no time.” 

“ It is a case of necessity with us,” said Cabot. 

“ Yes,” agreed White, “ we simply must go, 
and the quicker we set about it the better. If we 
make haste I believe we can get across by dark.” 


282 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


Thus determined, and disregarding a further 
expostulation from the fisherman, our lads set 
their faces resolutely towards the confusion of 
hummocks, “ pans,” floes tilted on edge, and up- 
reared masses of blue ice forming the “ strait’s 
pack ” of that season. Five minutes later they 
were lost to sight amid the frozen chaos. 

“ Wal,” soliloquized the man left standing on 
shore, “ Ah ’opes they’ll make it, but it’s a fear- 
some resk, an’ Gawd ’elp ’em if come a shift o’ 
wind afore they’re over.” 

Nothing, in all their previous experience of 
Labrador travel, had equalled the tumultuous 
ruggedness of the way by which Cabot and 
White were now attempting to bridge that bois- 
terous arm of the stormy northern ocean, and to 
advance at all taxed their strength to the utmost. 
To transport their laden sled was next to impos- 
sible, but they dared not leave it behind, and with 
their progress thus impeded they were barely half 
way to the Newfoundland coast when night over- 
took them. Even though the gathering darkness 
had not compelled a halt, their utter exhaustion 
would have demanded a rest. For an hour White 
had been obliged to clinch his teeth to keep from 
crying out with the pain of his weakened, and now 
overstrained, ankle, and when Cabot announced 
that it was no use trying to get further before 
morning, he sank to the ice with a groan. 


DRIFTING WITH THE ICE PACK. 283 


Full of sympathy for his comrade’s suffering, 
the Yankee lad at once set to work to make him 
as comfortable as circumstances would permit, 
and soon had him lying on a sleeping bag, in a 
niche formed by two uptilted slabs of ice. Pro- 
fiting by past experience, they had procured and 
brought with them an Eskimo lamp with its moss 
wick, a small quantity of seal oil, and a supply of 
matches, so that, after a while, Cabot procured 
enough boiling water to furnish a small pot of 
tea. When they had eaten their simple meal of 
tea, hard bread, and pemmican, White’s ankle 
was bathed with water as hot as he could bear it, 
and then the weary lads turned in for such sleep 
as their cheerless quarters might yield. About 
midnight the wind that had for many days blown 
steadily from the eastward changed to north- 
west, and, with the coming of daylight, it was 
blowing half a gale from that direction. 

To Cabot this change meant little or nothing, 
and he was suggesting that they remain where 
they were until White’s leg should be thoroughly 
rested, when the other interrupted him with: 

“ But we can’t stay here. Don’t you feel the 
change of wind ? ” 

“ What of it? ” asked Cabot. 

“ Oh, nothing at all, only that it will drive the 
ice out to sea, and, if we haven’t reached land 
before it begins to move, we’ll go with it.” 


284 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR . 


“ You don’t mean it! ” cried Cabot, now thor- 
oughly alarmed. “ In that case we’d best get a 
move on in a hurry. Do you think your leg will 
stand the trip? ” 

“It will have to,” rejoined White, grimly; 
and a few minutes later they had resumed the 
toilsome progress that was now a race for life. 
But it was a snail’s race, for the task of moving 
the sled had devolved entirely upon Cabot, 
White having all he could do to drag himself 
along. Each step gave him such exquisite pain 
that, by the time they had accomplished a 
couple of miles, he was crawling on hands and 
knees. 

Still, as Cabot hopefully pointed out, the New- 
foundland coast was in plain sight, and the ice 
held as firm as ever. He had hardly spoken 
when there came a distant roaring, that quickly 
developed into a sound of crashing and grinding 
not to be mistaken. 

“ The ice is moving! ” gasped White. 

“ Then,” said Cabot bravely, “ we’ll move too. 
Come on, old man. We’ll leave the sled, and 
I’ll get you ashore even if I have to carry you. 
It isn’t so very far now.” 

With this the speaker disengaged his hauling 
straps and turned to assist his comrade, but, to 
his dismay, the latter lay on the ice pale and mo- 
tionless. What with pain, over-exertion, and ex- 


DRIFTING WITH THE ICE PACK. 285 


citement, White had fainted, and Cabot must 
either carry him to the shore, remain beside him 
until he recovered, or leave him to his fate and 
save himself by flight over the still unbroken ice. 
He tried the first plan, picked White up, stag- 
gered a few steps with his helpless burden, and 
discovered its futility. Then he proceeded to 
put the second into execution by calmly unload- 
ing the sled and making such arrangements as 
his slender means would allow for his comrade’s 
comfort. The third plan came to him merely 
as a thought, to be promptly dismissed as un- 
worthy of consideration. 

In the meantime the ominous sounds of crack- 
ing, grinding, rending, and splitting grew ever 
louder, and came ever closer, until, at length, 
Cabot could see and feel that the ice all about 
him was in motion. By the time White recov- 
ered consciousness, a broad lane of black water 
had opened between that place and the New- 
foundland coast, while others could be seen in 
various directions. 

“ What are you doing? ” asked White, feebly, 
after he had struggled back to a knowledge of 
passing events, and had, for some minutes, been 
watching his friend’s movements. 

“ Building an igloo,” answered Cabot, cheer- 
ily. “ We might as well be comfortable while 
we can, and though my hut won’t have the archi- 


286 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


tectural beauty that Yim could give it, I believe 
it will keep us warm.” 

It would have been more than easy, and per- 
fectly natural, under the circumstances, to give 
way to utter despair; for of the several hopeless 
situations in which our lads had been placed dur- 
ing the past few months, the present was, by far, 
the worst. At any moment the ice beneath them 
might open and drop them into fathomless 
waters. Even if it held fast, they were certainly 
being carried out to sea, where they would be ex- 
posed to furious gales that must ultimately work 
their destruction. In spite of all this, Cabot 
Grant insisted on remaining hopefully cheerful. 
He said he had squeezed out of just as tight 
places before, and believed he would get out of 
this one somehow. At any rate, as crying 
wouldn’t help it, he wasn’t going to cry. Besides 
all sorts of things might happen. They might 
drift ashore somewhere or into the track of pass- 
ing steamers. Wouldn’t it be fine to be picked 
up and carried straight to Hew York? If 
steamers failed them, they were almost certain 
to sight fishing boats sooner or later. 

“Yes,” added White, catching some of his 
companion’s hopefulness, “ or we may meet with 
the sealers who leave St. Johns about this time 
every year and hunt seals on the ice pack off 
shore.” 


DRIFTING WITH THE ICE PACK. 287 


“ Of course,” agreed the other. “ So what’s 
the use of worrying? ” 

In spite of the brave front and cheerful aspect 
that Cabot maintained before his helpless com- 
rade, he often broke down when off by himself, 
vainly straining his eyes from the summit of some 
ice hummock for any hopeful sign, and acknowl- 
edged that their situation was indeed desperate. 

That first night, spent sleeplessly and in mo- 
mentary expectation that the ice beneath them 
would break, was the worst. After that they 
dreaded more than anything the fate that would 
overtake them with the disappearance of their 
slender stock of provisions. While this dimin- 
ished with alarming rapidity, despite their efforts 
at economy, their ice island drifted out from the 
strait, and soon afterwards became incorporated 
with the great Arctic pack that always in the 
spring forces its resistless way steadily southward 
towards the melting waters of the Gulf Stream. 

Land had disappeared with the second day of 
the ice movement, and after that, for a week, 
nothing occurred to break the terrible monotony 
of life on the pack, as experienced by our young 
castaways. Then came the dreaded announce- 
ment that one portion of their supplies was ex- 
hausted. There was no longer a drop of oil for 
their lamp. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


THE COMING OF DAVID GIDGE. 

White, who was still confined to the hut with 
his strained ankle, announced that they no longer 
had any oil upon Cabot’s return at dusk from a 
day of fruitless hunting and outlook duty on the 
ice. 

“ That’s bad,” replied the latter, in a tone 
whose cheerfulness strove to conceal his anxiety. 
“ How we’ll have to burn the sled. Lucky thing 
for us that it’s of wood instead of being one of 
those bone affairs such as we saw at Locked Har- 
bour.” 

“ Our provisions are nearly gone too,” added 
White. “ In fact we’ve only enough for one 
more day.” 

“ Oh, well! A lot of things can happen in a 
day, and some of them may happen to us.” 

But the only thing worthy of note that hap- 
pened on the following day was a storm of such 
violence as to compel even stout-hearted Cabot 
to remain behind the sheltering walls of the hut, 
and, while it raged, our shivering lads, crouched 


THE COMING OF DAVID GIDGE. 289 


above a tiny blaze of sled wood, ate their last 
morsel of food. They still had a small quantity 
of tea, but that was all. As soon, therefore, as 
the storm abated Cabot sallied forth with his gun, 
still hopeful, in spite of many disappointments, 
of finding some bird or beast that, by a lucky 
shot, might be brought to the table. 

The ice pack was of such vast extent that it 
seemed as though it must support animal life 
of some kind, but Cabot traversed it that day 
for many miles without finding so much as a 
track or a feather. That night’s supper was a 
pot of tea, and a similar one formed the sole 
nourishment upon which Cabot again set forth 
the next morning for another of those weary 
hunts. 

This time he went further from the hut than 
he had dared go on previous expeditions; but on 
them he had been hopeful and knew that even 
though he failed in his hunting he would still find 
food awaiting him on his return. Now he was 
desperate with hunger, and the knowledge that 
failing in his present effort he would not have 
strength for another. In his mind, too, he car- 
ried a vivid picture of poor White, crouching in 
that wretched hut over an expiring blaze fed by 
the very last of their wood. 

“I simply can’t go back empty-handed! ” he 
cried aloud. “ It would be better not to go back 
19 


290 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


at all, and let him hope for my coming to the 
last.” 

So the young hunter pushed wearily and hope- 
lessly on, until he found himself at the foot of 
a line of icebergs that had been frozen into the 
pack, where they resembled a range of fantas- 
tically shaped hills. Cabot had seen them from 
a distance on a previous expedition, and had won- 
dered what lay beyond. Now he determined 
to find out, though he knew if he once crossed 
them there would be little chance of regaining 
the hut before dark. It was a laborious climb, 
and several times he slid back to the place of 
starting, but each mishap of this kind only made 
him the more determined to gain the top. At 
length, breathless and bruised, crawling on handtf 
and knees, he reached a point from which he 
could look beyond the barrier. As he did so, he 
turned sick and uttered a choking cry. 

What he saw in that first glance was so utterly 
incredible that it could not be true, though if it 
were it would be the most welcome and beautiful 
sight in all the world. Yet it was only a ship! 
Just one ship and a lot of men! The ship was 
not even a handsome one, being merely a three- 
masted steam sealer, greasy and smeared in every 
part with coal soot from her tall smoke stack. 
She lay a mile or so away, but well within the 
pack, through the outer edge of which she had 



HE REACHED A POINT FROM WHICH HE COULD LOOK BEYOND THE BARRIER. 






































































THE COMING OF DAVID GIDGE. 293 


forced a passage. The men, evidently her crew, 
who were on the ice near the foot of Cabot’s 
ridge, were a disreputable looking lot, ragged, 
dirty, unkempt, and as bloody as so many butch- 
ers. And that is exactly what they were — 
butchers engaged in their legitimate business of 
killing the seals that, coming up from the south 
to meet the drifting ice pack, had crawled out on 
it by thousands to rear their young. 

This was all that Cabot saw; yet the sight so 
affected him that he laughed and sobbed for joy. 
Then he stood up, and, with glad tears blinding 
his eyes, tried to shout to the men beneath him, 
but could only utter hoarse whispers; for, in his 
overpowering happiness, he had almost lost the 
power of speech. As he could not call to them 
he began to wave his arms to attract their atten- 
tion, and then, all at once, he was nearly para- 
lysed by a hail from close at hand of: 

“ Hello there, ye bloomin’ id jit! Wot’s hup? ” 

Whirling around, Cabot saw, standing only a 
few rods away, a man who had evidently just 
climbed the opposite side of the ridge. He rec- 
ognised him in an instant, as he must have done 
had he met him in the most crowded street of a 
great city, so distinctively peculiar was his figure. 

“ David! David Gidge! ” he gasped, recover- 
ing his voice for the effort, and in another mo- 
ment, flinging his arms about the astonished 


294 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


mariner’s neck, he was pouring out a flood of 
incoherent words. 

“ Wal, I’ll be jiggered! ” remarked Mr. Gidge, 
as he disengaged himself from Cabot’s impulsive 
embrace and stepped back for a more compre- 
hensive view. “ Your voice sounds familiar, 
Mister, but I can’t say as I ever seen you be- 
fore. I took ye fust off fer a b’ar, and then f er a 
Huskie. When I seen you was white, I ’lowed 
ye might be one of the ‘ Marmaid’s ’ crew, see- 
ing as she was heading fer the pack ’bout the time 
we struck it. Now, though, as I say, I’m jig- 
gered ef I know exectly who ye be.” 

“ Why, Mr. Gidge, I’m Cabot Grant, 
who ” 

“ Of course. To be sartin ! Now I know ye ! ” 
interrupted the other. “ But where’s White? 
What hev ye done with White way Baldwin? ” 

“He’s back there on the ice helpless with a 
crippled leg, freezing and starving to death; but 
if you’ll come at once I’ll show you the way, and 
we may still be in time to save him.” 

With instant comprehension of the necessity 
for prompt action, Mr. Gidge, who, as Cabot 
afterwards learned, was first mate of the sealer 
a Labrador,” turned and shouted in stentorian 
tones to the men who were working below: 

“ Knock off, all hands, and follow me. Form 
a line and keep hailing distance apart, so’s we’ll 


THE COMING OF DAVID GIDGE. 295 


find our way back after dark. There’s white 
men starving on the ice. One of ye go to the 
ship and report. Move lively! Now, lad, I’m 
ready.” 

Two hours later Cabot and David Gidge, with, 
a long line of men streaming out behind them, 
reached the little hut. There was no answer to 
the cheery shouts with which they approached it, 
and, as they crawled through its low entrance, 
they were filled with anxious misgivings. What 
if they were too late after all? No spark of fire 
lighted the gloom or took from the deadly chill 
of the interior, and no voice bade them welcome. 
But, as David Gidge struck a match, a low moan- 
ing sounded from one side, and told them that 
White was at least alive. 

It took but a minute to remove him from the 
hut, together with the few things worth taking 
away that it contained. Then it was left without 
a shadow of regret, and the march to the distant 
ship was begun. Tour men carried White, who 
seemed to have sunk into a stupor, while two 
more supported Cabot, who had become suddenly 
weak and so weary that he begged to be allowed 
to sleep where he was. 

“ It’s been a close call for both of ’em,” said 
David Gidge, “ and now, men, we’ve got to make 
the quickest kind of time getting ’em back to 
the ship.” 


296 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


Fortunately there were plenty of willing hands 
to which the burdens might be shifted, for the 
a Labrador ” carried a crew two hundred strong, 
and, as the little party moved swiftly from one 
shouting man to another, it constantly gained 
accessions. 

At length the sealer was reached, and the res- 
cued lads were taken to her cabin, where the 
ship’s doctor, having made every possible prepa- 
ration for their reception, awaited them. They 
were given hot drinks, rubbed, fed, and placed 
between warm blankets, where poor, weary Ca- 
bot was at last allowed to fall asleep without fur- 
ther interruption. 

The animal sought by the sealers of New- 
foundland amid the furious storms and* crashing 
floes of the great ice pack is not the fur-bearing 
seal of Alaska, but a variety of the much less im- 
portant hair seal, which may be seen almost any- 
where along the Atlantic coast. From its skin 
seal leather is made, but it is chiefly valuable for 
the oil yielded by the layer of fat lying directly 
beneath the skin and enveloping the entire body. 
These seals would hardly be worth hunting un- 
less they could be captured easily and in quanti- 
ties; but, on their native ice in early spring, the 
young seals are found in prime condition and in 
vast numbers. Each helpless victim is killed by 
a blow on the head, “ sculped ” or stripped of his 


THE COMING OF DAVID GIDGE. 297 


pelt, and the flayed body is left lying in a pool of 
its own blood. 

The crew of a single vessel will thus destroy 
thousands of seals in a day, and in some pros- 
perous years the total kill of seals has passed the 
half million mark. Now only about a dozen 
steamers are engaged in the business, but by 
them from 200,000 to 300,000 seals are de- 
stroyed each spring. The movements of sealing 
vessels are governed by rigidly enforced laws that 
forbid them to leave port before the 12th of 
March, to kill a seal before the 14th of the same 
month, or after the 20th of April, and prohibit 
any steamer from making more than one trip 
during this short open season. The crews are 
paid in shares of the catch, and men are never 
difficult to obtain for the work, as the sealing 
season comes when there is nothing else to be 
done. 

As March was not yet ended when our lads 
were received aboard the “ Labrador,” and as 
she would not return to port until the last minute 
of the open season had expired, they had before 
them nearly a month in which to recover their 
exhausted energies and learn the business of seal- 
ing. White had suffered so severely, and 
reached such a precarious condition, that he re- 
quired every day of the allotted time for recu- 
peration, and even at its end his strength was by 


298 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


no means fully restored. Cabot, on the other 
band, woke after a thirty-six-hour nap, raven- 
ously hungry, and as fit as ever for anything that 
•might offer. After that, although he could never 
bring himself to assist in clubbing baby seals to 
death, he took an active part in the other work 
of the ship, thereby fully repaying the cost of the 
food eaten by himself and White. 

Of course, with their very first opportunity, 
both lads eagerly plied David Gidge with ques- 
tions concerning the welfare of the Baldwin fam- 
ily and everything that had happened during 
their long absence. Thus they learned to their 
dismay that another suit had been brought 
against the Baldwin estate that threatened to 
swallow what little property had been left, and 
that White, having been convicted of contempt 
of court for continuing the lobster factory after 
an adverse decision had been rendered, was now 
liable to a fine of one thousand dollars, or im- 
prisonment, as soon as he landed. 

“ But what has become of my mother and sis- 
ter? ” asked White. 

“They are in Harbour Grace,” answered David 
Gidge, “ stopping with some kin of mine. You 
see, all three of us was brung to St. Johns as wit- 
nesses, and there wasn’t money enough to take 
us back till I could come sealing and make some.” 

“ You are a trump, David Gidge! ” exclaimed 


THE COMING OF DAVID GIDGE. 299 


Cabot, while White gratefully squeezed the hon- 
est fellow’s hand. 

“ I promised to look arter ’em till you come 
back,” said the sailorman, simply. 

At length the sealing season closed, and the 
prow of the “ Labrador ” was turned homeward, 
but even now, after many an anxious discussion, 
our lads were undecided as to what they should 
do upon landing. But a solution of the problem 
came to Cabot on the day that the steamer en- 
tered Conception Bay and anchored close off Bell 
Island, to await the moving of a great ice mass 
that had drifted into the harbour. 

“ I know what we’ll do ! ” he cried. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MAN-WOLF MINE. 

As the deeply laden sealer drew near to land, 
Cabot had impatiently scanned the coast of the 
great island that he had once thought so remote, 
but which, after his long sojourn in the Labrador 
wilderness, now seemed almost the*same as Hew 
York itself. When the “ Labrador ” entered 
Conception Bay, at the head of which lies Har- 
bour Grace, her home port, and was forced by 
ice to anchor, he inquired concerning a small 
island that lay close at hand. 

“Bell Island/’ he repeated meditatively, on 
being told its name. “ Isn’t there an iron mine 
on it? ” 

“ Sartain,” replied David Gidge. “ The whole 
island is mostly made of iron.” 

“ Then it is a place that I particularly want to 
visit, and I know what we will do. Of course, 
White, we can’t let you go to prison, but at the 
same time you haven’t, immediately available, 
the money with which to pay that fine. I have, 
though, right in St. Johns. So, if you will en- 


ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE. 301 


dorse that New York draft to me, I will carry 
it into the city, deposit it at the bank, draw out 
the cash, and take the first train for Harbour 
Grace, so as to be there with more than enough 
money to pay your fine when you arrive. After 
that I propose that we both go on to New York, 
where I am almost certain I can get you some- 
thing to do that will pay even better than a lob- 
ster factory. If that plan strikes you as all right, 
and if Mr. Gidge will set me ashore here, I’ll just 
take a look at Bell Island and then hurry on to 
St. Johns.” 

The plan appearing feasible to White, Cabot 
— taking with him only his bag of specimens, to 
which he intended to add others of the Bell 
Island ore — bade his friends a temporary fare- 
well, and was set ashore. As the country was still 
covered with snow, he had slung his snowshoes 
on his back, and as he was still clad in the well- 
worn fur garments that had been so necessary in 
Labrador, his appearance was sufficiently striking 
to attract attention as soon as he landed. One of 
the very first persons who spoke to him proved to 
be the young superintendent of the mine he 
wished to visit, and, when this gentleman learned 
that Cabot had just returned from Labrador, he 
offered him every hospitality. Not only did he 
show him over the mine and give him all possible 
information concerning it, but he kept him over 


302 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


night in his own bachelor quarters, and provided 
a boat to take him across to Portugal Cove on 
the mainland in the morning. 

From that point, there being no conveyance, 
Cabot was forced to walk the nine miles into St. 
Johns, which city he did not reach until nearly 
noon. Even there, where fur-clad Arctic ex- 
plorers are not uncommon, Cabot’s costume at- 
tracted much attention. Disregarding this, he 
inquired his way to the Bank of Nova Scotia, 
where he presented the letter of credit that he 
had carefully treasured amid all the vicissitudes 
of the past ten months. The paying teller of the 
bank examined it closely, and then took a long 
look at the remarkable-appearing young man who 
had presented it. Finally he said curtly: 

“ Sign your name.” 

Cabot did so, and the other, after comparing 
the two signatures, retired to an inner room. 
From it he reappeared a few moments later and 
requested Cabot to follow him inside, where the 
manager wished to see him. 

The manager also regarded our lad with great 
curiosity as he said : 

“You have retained this letter a long time 
without presenting it.” 

“ And I might have retained it longer if I had 
not been in need of money,” rejoined Cabot, 
somewhat nettled by the man’s manner. 


ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE. 303 


“ You are Cabot Grant of New York? ” 

“lam” 

“ Not yet of age? ” 

“ Not quite.” 

“ And you have a guardian? ” 

“ I have.” 

“ Do you mind telling his name and address? ” 

“Is that a necessary preliminary to drawing 
money on a letter of credit? ” 

“ In this case it is.” 

“ Well, then, he is James Hepburn, President 
of the Gotham Trust and Investment Company.” 

“ J ust so, and you will doubtless be interested 
in this communication from him.” 

So saying, the manager handed over the tele- 
gram in which Mr. Hepburn instructed the St. 
Johns branch of the Bank of Nova Scotia to ad- 
vance only the price of a ticket to New York on 
a letter of credit that would be presented by his 
ward, Cabot Grant. 

“ What does it mean? ” asked Cabot in bewil- 
derment, as he finished reading this surprising 
order. 

“ I’ve no idea,” replied the manager dryly. 
“ I only know that we are bound to follow those 
instructions, and can let you have but forty dol- 
lars, which is the price of a first-class ticket to 
New York by steamer. Moreover, as this is 
sailing day, and the New York steamer leaves in 


304 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


a couple of hours, I would advise you to engage 
passage and go on board at once, if you do not 
want to be indefinitely detained here.” 

“ In what way? ” 

“ Possibly by the sheriff, who has wanted you 
for some time in connection with a certain 
French Shore lobster case that the government is 
prosecuting.” 

Perplexed and indignant as he was, Cabot real- 
ised that only in Hew York could his tangled af- 
fairs be straightened out, and that the quicker he 
got there the better. Determined, however, to 
make one more effort in behalf of his friend, he 
produced the missionary’s draft and asked if the 
manager would cash it. 

“ Certainly not,” replied that individual 
promptly. “ Under present circumstances, Mr. 
Grant, we must decline to have any business deal- 
ings with you other than to accept your receipt 
for forty dollars, which will be paid you in the 
outer office.” 

So Cabot swallowed his pride, took what he 
could get, and left the bank a little more down- 
cast than he had been at any time since the day 
on which President Hepburn had entrusted him 
with his present mission. 

“ I don’t understand it at all,” he muttered to 
himself, as he sought an eating-house, where he 
proposed to expend a portion of his money in sat- 


ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE. 305 


isfying his keen appetite. “ Seems to me it is a 
mighty mean return for all I have gone through, 
and Mr. Hepburn will have to explain matters 
pretty clearly when I get back to New York.” 

From the eating-house Cabot sent a letter to 
White, explaining his inability to secure the 
money he had expected, begging him to lie low 
for a few days, and announcing his own imme- 
diate departure for New York, from which place 
he promised to send back the amount of the draft 
immediately upon his arrival. In this letter 
Cabot also enclosed fifteen dollars, just to help 
White out until he could send him some more 
money. This outlay left our young engineer but 
twenty-five dollars, but that would pay for a 
steerage passage, which, he reflected, would be 
plenty good enough for one in his reduced cir- 
cumstances, and leave a few dollars for emer- 
gencies when he reached New York. 

Two hours later, still clutching the bag of 
specimens that now formed his sole luggage, he 
stood on the forward deck of the steamer “ Ama- 
zon ” as she slipped through the narrow passage 
leading out from the land-locked harbour, gazing 
back at the city of St. Johns climbing its steep 
hillside and dominated by the square towers of 
its Roman Catholic cathedral. He was feeling 
very forlorn and lonely, and was wondering how 
he should manage to exist on steerage fare in 
20 


306 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


steerage company during the next five days, 
when a familiar voice, close at hand, said: 

“ Hello, young man in furs! Where do you 
come from? Been to the North Pole with 
Peary? ” 

Turning quickly, Cabot gasped out : 

“ Captain Phinney ! ” 

“No, not cap’n, but second mate Phinney,” 
retorted the other. “ But how do you know my 
name ? I don’t recognise you.” 

“ I am Cabot Grant, who was with you on the 
‘ Lavinia ’ when ” 

“ Good heavens, man! It can’t be.” 

“ It is, though, and I never was more glad to 
see any one, not even David Gidge, than I am to 
see you at this minute. But why are you second 
mate instead of captain ? ” 

“ Because,” replied the other bitterly, “ it was 
the only berth they would give me after I lost 
my ship, and I had to take it or beg.” 

“But I thought you went down with the 
‘ Lavinia ’ ? ” 

“ So I thought you did, but it seems both of 
us were mistaken. All but you got off in two 
of the boats, and ours was picked up the next day 
by a liner bound for New York. But how, in 
the name of all that is wonderful — Hold on, 
though. Let us go up to my room, where we can 
talk comfortably.” 


ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE. 307 


As a result of this happy meeting, Cabot’s 
voyage was made very pleasant after all. Much 
as he had to tell and to hear, he also found time 
to write out a full report on the Bell Island mine, 
and also a series of notes concerning the ore speci- 
mens that he was carrying to New York. 

At length the great city was reached, the 
u Amazon ” was made fast to her Brooklyn pier, 
and Cabot went to bid the second mate good-bye. 
u Hold on a bit,” said the latter, “ and run up to 
the house with me. You can’t go without seeing 
Helly and the baby.” 

“ Nice calling rig I’ve got on, haven’t I?” 
laughed Cabot. “ Why, it would scare ’em stiff. 
So not to-day, thank you; but I’ll come to- 
morrow.” 

The carriage that Cabot engaged to carry him 
across to the city cost him his last cent of money, 
but he knew it was well worth it when, still in 
furs and with his snowshoes still strapped to his 
back, he entered the Gotham building. Such a 
sensation did he create that he would have been 
mobbed in another minute had he not dodged 
into an elevator and said: 

“ President’s room, please.” 

He so petrified Mr. Hepburn’s clerks and office 
boys by his remarkable appearance that they 
neglected to check his progress, and allowed him 
to walk unchallenged into the sacred private of- 


308 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


flee. Its sole occupant was writing, and did not 
notice the entrance until Cabot, laying a folded 
paper on his desk, said : 

“Here is that Bell Island report, Mr. Hep- 
burn.” 

The startled man sprang to his feet with a face 
as pale as though he had seen a ghost, and for 
a few moments stared in speechless amazement 
at the fur-clad intruder. Then the light of recog- 
nition flashed into his eyes, and holding out a cor- 
dial hand he said: 

“ My dear boy, how you frightened me ! 
Where on earth did you come from? ” 

“ From the steerage of the steamer i Ama- 
zon / ” replied Cabot, stiffly, ignoring his guar- 
dian’s proffered hand. “ I only dropped in to 
hand you that Bell Island report, and to say that, 
as this happens to be my twenty-first birthday, I 
shall be pleased to receive whatever of my pro- 
perty you may still hold in trust at your earliest 
convenience. With that business transacted, it 
is perhaps needless to add, that I shall trouble no 
further the man who was cruel enough to leave 
me penniless among strangers.” 

“ Cabot, are you crazy, or what do you mean? 
I received your Bell Island report months ago, 
and it was that caused me to recall you. Why 
did you not come at once? ” 

“ I never sent a Bell Island report. In fact 



“my dear boy, 


YOU HAVE DONE SPLENDIDLY. 





































ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE . 311 


I never wrote one until yesterday, and there it 
lies. Nor did I ever receive any notice of recall, 
and I did not come back sooner because I have 
been following your instructions and wintering 
in Labrador. There I have acquired one of the 
most remarkable iron properties in the world, 
which I intend to develop as far as possible with 
my own resources, seeing that not one cent of 
your money has been used in defraying the ex- 
penses of my recent trip/ 7 replied Cabot, hotly. 

But Mr. Hepburn did not hear the last of this 
speech, for he had opened the report laid on his 
desk and was glancing rapidly through it. 

“This is exactly what I expected and wanted! ” 
he exclaimed. “ Why didn’t you send it in be- 
fore, instead of that other one ? ” 

“ I never sent any other,” repeated Cabot, and 
then they sat down to mutual explanations. 

For that whole morning President Hepburn 
denied himself to all callers and devoted his en- 
tire attention to Cabot’s recital. When it was 
finished, and when the bag full of specimens had 
been examined, the elder man grasped the other’s 
hand and said: 

“ My dear boy, you have done splendidly! I 
am not only satisfied with you as an agent, but 
am proud of you as a ward. Yes, this is your 
day of freedom from our guardianship, and I 
shall take pleasure in turning over to you the 


312 


UNDER THE GREAT BEAR. 


balance of the property left by your father. It, 
together with the balance remaining on your let- 
ter of credit, and your salary for the past year, 
will amount to about ten thousand dollars, a por- 
tion of which at least I would advise you to invest 
in the Man-wolf mine.” 

“ Then you intend to develop it, sir? ” cried 
Cabot. 

“ Certainly, provided we can acquire your 
claim to the property, and engage a certain Mr. 
Cabot Grant to act as our assistant Labrador 
manager.” 

“ Do you think me capable of filling so respon- 
sible a position, sir? ” 

“ I am convinced of it,” replied Mr. Hepburn, 
smiling. 

“ And may I find places for White, and David 
Gidge, and Captain Phinney, and ” 

“ One of the duties of your new position will 
be the selection of your subordinates,” inter- 
rupted the other, “ and I should hope you would 
give preference to those whose fidelity you have 
already tested.” 

Within an hour after this happy conclusion of 
the interview, Cabot had wired White Baldwin 
the full amount of the missionary’s draft and in- 
vited him to come as quickly as possible to Hew 
York. He had also written to Captain Phinney 
asking him to resign at once his position as second 


ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE MINE. 313 


mate, in order that he might assume command 
of a steamer shortly to he put on a run between 
New York and Labrador. 

With these pleasant duties performed, our 
young engineer prepared to accept President 
Hepburn’s invitation to a dinner that was to be 
given in his honour, and with which the happiest 
day of his life was to be concluded. 


The End. 















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